On a Wingnut and a Prayer
by Stainless Steel Fox
Summary: Stainless-verse fic set after 'The Donutters'. Gadget has been invited to take part in an all animal air race in Japan, the same one her father had won twice previously. Will it be a Hackwrench Hat-trick? Can the Rangers wing it and win through?
1. Chapter 1

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On a Wing-nut and a Prayer – Part 1

It was breakfast time at the tree house and the Rangers were in the kitchen, seated and waiting for Chip's cooking. Yes, the chipmunk in the hat was taking over Monty's role for the day, though at the moment he was wearing an apron. Pancakes made with acorn flour were on the menu. Monty was reading the newspaper for cheese ship arrivals, while Zipper was enveloped in the sports section. He quickly made his way out from under them and headed for the funny papers. This left Dale and Foxglove to make conversation.

Now that Foxglove was 'out' as an otaku, she no longer had problems with visiting the other Rangers. The pair had been up all night, watching a series of late, late Japanese monster movies on cable, and were probably going to turn in after breakfast. But for now, Dale were still hyper about it.

"That was a neat idea, Foxy! You were right about 'Revenge of Mothra', it was cool!"

Foxy snuggled against her chipmunk beau. "I'm just glad you stocked up on snacks beforehand Dale-cutie, it always makes me hungry."

Dale chuckled. "Well if a giant moth ever attacks the city, we can give you a shot of ol' Nimnul's Gigantico Ray and you can have him for lunch!"

Foxglove thought about this momentarily. "Wouldn't work, I'd never find a big enough bottle of ketchup." They both chuckled, then yawned in unison. Another thing the Rangers had quickly found out about the bat lady was her fondness for tomato sauce. It apparently came from obtaining most of her meals from the leftovers of concession stands at movie theatres and the City University food court.

Chip called from where he was adding the final few to a huge stack of pancakes. "Okay guys, they're ready!" He turned to bring them to the table, already laid with jugs of hot syrup and cold orange juice. There were also eyedropper-style bottles of cheese sauce and ketchup. "Say, where's Gadget?"

"Dunno, Chip-lad." said the big Australian mouse. "Maybe the lass was on one of her inventing kicks last night. She could have overslept."

"Well she didn't build anything, that's for sure. Even if I hadn't heard her working Foxy would've." Dale shrugged. Foxglove shook her head.

Monty folded the piece of newspaper. "Now I come to think of it, our Gadget did get a package from the evening mail bird. I reckoned it was just the latest copy of Scientific Rodentia, 'cause she did seem a mite excited." "Zyeah!" Zipper added.

Just then the object of their discussion came in through the arch to the living quarters. "Good morning guys." It wasn't delivered in her normal perky manner, but in a slightly nervous tone. She was carrying a sweetener wrapper, which acted as a mouse sized document wallet.

"G'day luv!" "Zhi!" Monty and Zipper called.

"Morning, Gadget." Dale and Foxy synchronised.

Chip put down the heaped plate of pancakes. "What's up, Gadget? You look as if you have something on your mind."

"I usually have several things on my mind, but in this case it's more of a thing to ask if you'd mind. You see I have to leave the Rescue Rangers, or maybe you don't because I haven't explained why I need to…" She trailed off into the shocked silence.

Chip gasped. "Leave the Rangers!" he exclaimed. "What happened?" It was just as well he'd already put down the plate of pancakes, otherwise he'd have dropped them on his foot.

Gadget looked puzzled. "No it hasn't, not yet, but it will in a month's time, and that's why I've got to get working on an entry."

"Gadget luv, your motor's revving but yer propellers ain't movin'" said Monty. "What's going on?"

"Monty, if you know about it, you should understand why it's so important I enter. You were there 5 years ago when my father won."

Monty paused, then a light dawned. "Ohhh… I hadn't realised it was that time again."

Chip was looking back and forth, and suddenly cried, "What's going on here?" .

Gadget sighed. "It isn't here, it's in Japan this time."

Monty shook his head. "I don't think that's what he meant luv. I'll explain.."

He got Chip to sit and said. "Y'know Geegaw Hackwrench wasn't the only fella to fly his own plane. There's quite a number o' different groups and such who build 'em, from human model kits or even from scratch. Of course there aren't any local ones or I guess you'd know about it. Now they have air meets, get together to show their latest stuff and the biggest one is the World Animal Aviation Trials, WAAT, held every 5 years, each time in a different country. That's where I first met Geegaw, at the one 10 years ago in me homeland. He was the one who taught me to fly. I was at the last one in Africa too, acting as co-pilot. Gadget was there too, already a little lady and a bonzer engineer. Why I remember…"

Gadget blushed and said, "Thanks Monterey.", unintentionally forestalling the tale. "You see the biggest event of WAAT is the unlimited air race. It runs over the last three days and any aircraft can enter. It tests speed, manoeuvrability, endurance and the pilot as much as the plane. The winner of the last two races was my father, in the Screaming Eagle." She pulled a pair of ribbons out of the document wallet, each with a gold medallion embossed with a pair of wings. She sniffed and gulped. "My father promised he'd come back to take the gold a third time, and since he can't, I've got to go in his place."

"But why leave us?", asked Chip, looking downcast either at the thought of Gadget leaving, or at Gadget being unhappy, or both.

Gadget visibly pulled herself together and continued in a more normal tone. "Well gee, I won't have time for Ranger work, and I haven't got the facilities here to build what I want to. I need to return to my place at the airport, it has the space, heavy duty tools and access to all sorts of specialised dohickeys."

Dale was confused. "But… yawn… you built the Rangerwing right here."

Gadget nodded, "And I had to do most of the final assembly outside. I could almost certainly have done a better, faster job if I'd been at my old place. I want to build a new version of the Screaming Eagle, and I can't do that here."

"We could all help!" Chip exclaimed, and the others chorused their agreement, each chipping in their ideas. "We can act as your ground crew…" "Moral support." "Commissary." "Night landing gear." Everyone looked at Foxglove. She shrugged her wings. "Well I could."

"But I couldn't ask everyone to drop what they're doing just to help me out, that would be selfish. What if the city needs the Rescue Rangers?"

Monty spoke first, "The city can look out for itself for a while. 'Sides I still owe Geegaw for Zanzibar." "Zyeah!"

Chip looked around at the others and nodded, seeing their agreement. "We've taken extended trips before and it's worked out. Consider the number of times one of your inventions has made the difference between success and failure. Even if we didn't want to help you as your friends, the Rescue Rangers owe you, the whole city owes you more than we could ever repay."

Dale chirped up. "Yeah, besides Nimnul's still in the nuthouse, Fat Cat has been sticking to running his casino and Rat Capone is probably still just running after the those cats chased him off. This thing sounds like fun!"

"Where my darling goes, I go. Besides I may not have been your friend for very long, but I want to show I am... if you see what I mean." Foxglove suddenly looked as if she remembered something. "Wait a moment, Dale told me about when they first met you. Didn't you have some sort of powered armour?"

"You must mean my battle sphere. I originally built it as a construction unit to lift human sized power tools and large components, but by changing the arms on it I did use it to scare off salesmen." It was Gadget's turn to look puzzled. "Why would that make a difference?"

Foxglove giggled. "You have a working mobile suit, a Labor, and you ask why an otaku would be interested? I have got to introduce you to the some mecha anime shows."

"If you go giving her ideas… yawn… she'll probably build you one as a Christmas present." Dale quipped.

Gadget noted that as something to consider, after all she always had a tough time with finding Christmas presents. She looked around at the group, seeing nothing but support. "Golly, you all really want to help? It's going to be long hours and hard work. I don't know what to say."

Chip looked happy and relieved. "'Yes' would be a good start, followed by 'My those acorn pancakes look good.'"

&

The Rangerwing was soaring out over the suburbs, away from the city park. It had turned out to be one of those perfect autumn mornings, sunny with whipped cream clouds, and little wind, making the air crisp and pleasant. Gadget was in control, with Chip as co-pilot. Monty and Zipper were sharing the back seat. The inventor mouse had her goggles down, hiding her eyes, but Chip had been around her long enough to read from her posture that she was mulling something over, and not happy about it. That wouldn't do. "Hey, Gadget, is there something wrong?"

Gadget hesitated a fraction too long before saying, "Golly Chip, what makes you think that?"

Chip put his hand out, to touch her shoulder, then pulled it back. "You just seem kinda distracted. It isn't because we left Foxglove and Dale behind, is it? I was the one who insisted they catch up on their sleep."

Gadget shook her head. "Oh no, I could see they were both ready to drop at the breakfast table."

"We may just be going to clean up the place and get it ready, but I don't want to take someone on any mission if they're not alert. Not any more. Unlike Fat Cat or Nimnul I'm trying to learn from my mistakes."

"Oh I agree, we don't want any accidents like the one that almost happened at the building site back when Fat Cat was stealing gold bars with the toy train. Of course there were more accidents than that the last time we took Dale on a mission when he was half asleep, like the business with the washing machine…" She paused, then went on slowly. "I guess… I'm just not sure how I'll feel seeing the old place again. I had some of the best times of my life there… and some of the worst." She sniffled, either from the emotions her memories were bringing up, or the cold air.

Chip said nothing for a moment, then came out with, "I wish I could have met him."

"Huh? Oh, my father. You'd have liked him, and vice versa."

"I'd hope so." Chip replied.

Monty stirred himself in back. "I reckon so too. Old Geegaw was an adventurous type like me, but he was a bit like you, into deductive type planning. Still, we made a good team, him supplyin' the ideas, me supplyin' the muscle."

Gadget giggled. "I remember some of his stories," and then she sobered up. "And I remember how lonely it was after he wasn't there to tell them anymore. That's why I didn't come back before, even when I could have used the equipment..."

"It'll be alright." Chip said, then continued. "I know that you had some bad times there, but that's behind you. We're going back there to make you some new memories, happy ones. You'll be building your greatest creation, and we'll all be there to help you. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, well, my jacket is fairly waterproof."

That last piece of silliness seemed to perk the mouse up. He was trying to find a way to say more, when they came out over the last of the housing developments and reached the edges of the airport where her old home was. It had originally been a military airfield during the Second World War, a training base for heavy aircraft. It had almost by accident become a dumping ground for mothballed kit.

In later years the training functions had moved to newer, better situated bases, and it had been converted to a civilian airport for freight and a few internal airlines. The history of the place showed mainly in the junk yard that occupied a good section of the old marshalling area, and the fact that away from the runways and terminal buildings the original country-side was still there, lacking the manicured look of purpose built airports.

A wrecked B-25 training bomber lay to one side of the junk yard zone. It had clearly been dragged to it's present location when taken out of service and left to rot. The landing gear under the two engines had splayed out, dropping the fuselage to the ground and the port wingtip splayed up at a crazy angle, probably from whatever landing had ruined the plane. However the main hull, and more remarkably the glass of the gunnery and piloting compartments was intact.

Suddenly there were a pair of brief flashes from the top of the raised up wing.

"Uh oh! Break left!" Gadget cried out and rolled the Rangerwing off to one side, going into a series of dives and fishtails. The fly by wire system meant Chip's added muscle wouldn't help, so he just let his stick follow Gadget's. A number of slender shapes shot past, trailing smoke. Gadget dived away on the opposite side of the plane from the upraised wing. She headed towards the centre of junkyard and came in low, dodging into a canyon between the stacked junk. Even as she did so, a second group of missiles whooshed past, one lodging in the pintle mount of the rear facing plunger harpoon, another scoring the underside of a wing.

Gadget was still calling out the shots. "Bank right and roll!" Chip slammed his dual controls over to the right as Gadget did the same. The Rangerwing heeled over, one wingtip practically touching the ground, and slipped into a narrow crack in the side of the wall of junk. It came out into a clear area, rolling completely over to fly upright. Smoke was trailing from near one engine. "Keep it steady, full throttle!" Gadget told Chip. It was now skimming the ground, with wall of junk at the far end approaching at an approximate speed of 'too fast'.

Even as Gadget spoke she reached under the dashboard and pulled out a wire, then flipped the mode change toggle on the control panel. Normally the fly-by-wire system would handle the simultaneous rotation of the props to vertical position while reversing the direction of thrust. Now it slammed the powerful pusher motors into reverse, without rotating them to the vertical, stopping the aircraft dead in seconds and pancaking it onto the ground six inches short of the far wall.

"What just happened?" gasped Chip. Monty had already unlatched his seatbelt and jumped out, Zipper following.

Gadget shook her head. "It was my Homeguard system! But I deactivated it when we left, even stored the missiles …"

Monty came back, holding the projectile that had lodged in the pintle. It was the bottom half of a sharpened pencil with a scorched aluminum foil cylinder extending from the blunt end. "This is the bloomin' thing that hit us. Did we annoy any teachers lately?"

Chip has jumped out to examine the device, now he looked to Gadget for an explanation. She quickly obliged.

"You remember my salesman traps? This was the same idea. I had this idea that if they couldn't get in through on the ground, they might try landing on the roof. I had a sonar scanner set up on the wing tip and automatically tracking catapults rigged to throw a bunch of pencils at an attacker.

"At first that was all, but it didn't have the accuracy or speed I wanted. So I soaked the bottom half of the pencils in a peroxide mix, added a fulminating agent to the eraser tip, and wrapped the bottom half in aluminium foil. It turned them into short range solid fuel rockets. The concussion of the catapult launch ignited the eraser, and the peroxide impregnated wood acted as the fuel after the eraser burnt up. The aluminium foil chamber and the graphite core formed a self stabilising aero-spike."

Monty shook his head. "That's roight ingenious luv, but it doesn't tell us who started it up again."

"Well golly, I don't know either. No-one else from around here would have trespassed. I even left up signs asking people not to."

Then Chip noticed movement, behind one of the piles of smaller junk, off to one side. He pointed to Zipper and then to the movement, while saying, "Maybe we can find someone to explain."

Zipper charged off and rounded the pile from the other side. There was a muffled exclamation and a figure stumbled backwards out into clear sight. Chip was already moving to intercept, closely followed by Monty. It turned out to be a matronly vole, wearing a headscarf and cloak, who yelped and cowered.

"Please don't hurt me… I didn't see anything…" Then she looked more closely at the pair. "But… you … you're not them!" The last was said in a tone of some relief.

Chip had immediately changed to a more diplomatic posture. "We're the Rescue Rangers, and you don't have anything to fear from us. Maybe you could tell us who 'they' are, and why they have you so scared."

The lady vole looked relieved. "The Rescue Rangers, oh thank the heavens! You got our message. Is little Gadget with you?" She came out into the open.

Gadget stood up in her seat and called out. "Mrs Martlby?"

"Yes Gadget dear. Oh, I'm so glad to see you and your Ranger friends. Maybe you can do something about those Ratz." She harshened the final s into a z.

"Ratz?", Chip asked. "We didn't get any message, so maybe you'd better start at the beginning."

"Oh dear, yes, maybe I should. Over a month ago, a gang moved in on the our airport. They call themselves the Ratz, and they are mostly, though there are a some large mice, a couple of squirrels and at least one raccoon. The leader is a huge rat who calls himself Spike, maybe because he wears a wicked looking metal spike on the tip of his tail. They claim that the whole place is theirs, and take whatever they want. They brought in some sort of human-built sound system and play it at all hours, especially at night.

"Some of us tried to fight, but it was as individuals, and we got swamped, some of us badly injured. They have clubs, scalpel blade knives, chains, all sorts of stuff." She rubbed her side unconsciously. "Now people are afraid to try, especially since they have taken over the Hackwrench place as their base and fortified it. There's all sorts of booby traps."

Gadget was listening sympathetically, until this last bit. "They're using my place to lurk and terrorise innocent creatures? Ooooohhh, those unprincipled, low down, rotten rejects. I'll dump them all on the waste ejection catapult and send them to the airport canteen bins with all the other rubbish!"

Gadget rarely got angry, but when she did it was generally a very bad thing for the target, as 'Baby' Thaddeus and Bubbles had found to their cost. Chip spoke up before Gadget said or did anything precipitous. "Don't worry Gadget, you have the Rescue Rangers to help with the spring cleaning. Mrs Martlby, if we can drive them out and disarm them, can the folk around here see them off?"

The vole lady adjusted her headscarf. "Hmmmm… Maybe, but people are very nervous about them. You really can help? There are at least thirty of them and only the four of you."

"No worries, luv," said Monty, "Those wowsers will be out of there quicker than a kangaroo at a dingo convention."

Chip was already thinking. "We'll need to get the Rangerwing back in the air first… Ohmigosh, Dale and Foxglove, we have to get back before they set off or they'll fly straight into the trap. Gadget?" But the mouse inventor was already under the wing checking the damage from the landing.

"I'll have this fixed in a jiffy," she called, "I just have to patch the wing and reconnect a few control cables. No problem."

"Mrs Martlby, anything else you can tell us about their equipment or numbers could be useful…"

There was a whining sound from the canyon they'd come in by. The vole looked scared. "Oh no… they're here, we have to hide…" She took off on four paw drive, quickly disappearing into one of the crevices in the walls of junk.

"Zipper, go high, Gadget, ready the harpoon, Monty, with me." Chip walked out to stand behind the tail of the Rangerwing, Monty beside him, facing the canyon they'd come in by. Out of the foot wide gap between the two walls of scrap came a contraption. It had four mini-caterpillar tracks, each on an independently sprung lever arm, attached to a body of half a dozen corned beef cans bolted together.

It had originally been utilitarian, with a single seat, penlight torch headlamps along each side, and the rear section a flat low slung load bed, but now sported pieces of card and plastic, spray painted with multi-coloured graffiti, and duct taped on roll-bars as well as extra lights.

"Golly and a half, my old parts transporter, what have they done to it!" No prizes for guessing who that came from.

Riding it were street rats, mostly, all punked up or punked down. Brightly coloured fur jobs, leather, studs, piercings, they gave the impression of not being the sort to stop for tea and ask after the health of elderly relatives. Of course, considering how Iron Goose acted off stage that was not necessarily true, but the cheers and nasty laughter when they sighted the plane were corroborating evidence.

The biggest thug, a leather jacketed raccoon with a paper megaphone and a wicked looking scalpel blade knife, yelled. "You're trespassin' on Ratz turf. Now you gotta pay. That funny lookin' flying thing and the babe'll do nicely. Pay the fine and you'll be fine." There were a number of chuckles at the leaders wit. The Ratz jumped off the sides of the transporter, pulling out various implements of melee combat and advancing on the Rangerwing, and the two Rangers between it and them.

**Station break time - You knew it was coming…**

Chip stood there, afraid but not showing it. Instead he held his arms, apparently folded, but in reality ready to pull any one of a number of devices from inside his jacket. He affected a yawn. "You must have spent days thinking up that one. Counter proposal, the original owner of the place you're staying has come back, and she has the Rescue Rangers with her. So go back to the plane and tell your pals to pack up and get out, or we'll have to make you."

As soon as he mentioned the words 'Rescue Rangers', some of the goons started looking worried, and stopped advancing. Their nervousness was transmitted to the rest of the group. The raccoon in charge growled. "What's wrong? Get 'em!"

One of the rats spoke up. "But Bandit, I heard about them back down in the sewers. These guys are tough! They take on the likes of Rat Capone and Fat Cat."

The comments started coming from various points along the line. "Fat Cat nothing, I heard they go after human crooks." "Ain't they supposed to be able ta wrestle snakes and octopussies?" "I heard just one of them took on an army of ninjas and won…"

At this Gadget striving for accuracy as always, called out, "Gosh, I wouldn't call them an army exactly. There weren't more than twenty of them, thirty at the most. But then I'm not normally a front line fighter."

These perfectly true statements did nothing to help the situation for the bad guys. For one moment it looked like the goons were going to turn tail and run. Then Bandit cuffed the nearest one who showed signs of cowardice, knocking him to the floor. "We're the Ratz and we're tougher than any 'Refuse Rangers'. You three, get lard-butt. You three sort out that piece of tail and the plane. You two, with me. That snotty nut-muncher is ours!"

Chip had already glanced around the area and selected his counter strategy. He started sidling off to one side. "Well come on then, lets see what you got." He pulled out his safety pin grapnel and flicked it open, then started swinging the thing like a chain weapon.

The goons slunk after him, led by the racoon, who sneered. "Ya think that thing scares us?" He held the head of a scalpel with a sawn off hilt, and moved like a professional knife fighter. On one side was a rat with a Death head t-shirt and a pair of fork heads, ground down and sharpened up into Sai daggers. The other goon was a squirrel with a dyed Mohecan cut that went all the way down to then root of his tail. He made do with a sawn off metal control rod, with sharpened ends, making a nasty looking quarterstaff/spear.

Chip was thinking, 'Just a bit further…' He'd made it over beside the towering stack of junk that Mrs Martleby was hiding behind earlier. "Nope. But only because you aren't bright enough to see a threat right in front of you." He flicked the grapnel out with the speed of a striking snake, making all three flinch involuntarily before they realised that the thing had gone way over their heads.

"Ya missed!" roared the racoon, starting to charge forward.

"Did I?" Chip called out and hauled on the line. The old fire bucket he'd hooked, dropped upside down on the trio, followed by a goodly amount of miscellaneous garbage. Several years of quality time with Gadget, helping her scavenge for parts, had given him an appreciation of the way junk heaps accreted. This one had come apart exactly as he'd planned, trapping the three goons.

"Don't kick the bucket while I'm gone." he quipped, then shook his head. "I'm getting as bad as Dale!' Then he raced back to where the others were fighting.

Meanwhile, the three on Monty were spreading out and drawing their weapons. Two rats and a big mouse with a torn ear and a flat biker cap. Of course, Monty was more interested in the weapons they were carrying, a hardwood shaft studded with panel pins, a small switchblade used as a short sword, and a length of twine threaded with free sliding hex nuts, which could be swung like a chain, or a solid metal club just by pushing the nuts together at one end. "Hur, hur, hur… Y'r gonna get the cheese knocked outta you!", called out the mouse as they moved in.

Monty thought about his emergency, emergency reserve supply of cheese, a sealed wedge of Brie 86 in one pocket against cheese attacks. "You'll nevah get between me and my cheese, you blooomin' drongos!" Monty reckoned he could take them bare handed, but those weapons gave them a nasty advantage. While not a tactical planner like Chip, he was however an old hand at improvising. A screwdriver hilt sticking proud of a low pile of rubbish was his means. He stomped on it and the other end flipped up like a seesaw into his hand. He swung it through the air as a continuation of the same movement, and knocked their weapons out of their hands with it.

They obviously expected him to attack with it, and stepped back, so they were completely unprepared when with a yell he flung it to one side and dove into the middle of them. The fight dissolved into a cloud of dust, evaporating at first to show Monty held down by the two rats, while the mouse raised his reclaimed 'nutchucks' high to strike. Of course he counted without Zipper, who had been holding himself in reserve. The heroic fly dive bombed in, feet first and planted them in the mouse's face, one in each eye.

The irritation caused the mouse to bring his hands down to try and catch the insect. Instead he managed only to almost knock himself out with the string of hex nuts he was holding. Monty, of course, had not been idle during this, hauling his pinned arms in as the rats were distracted, and bashing them together. The scene turned into a dust cloud again, clearing to show Monty belabouring the two rats with another improvised weapon, the mouse. The three were soon unconscious. "Now that was a roight jolly punch-up!" Monty hollered.

Meanwhile Gadget was handling things her own way. The three rats clearly though they'd gotten the easy job, their weapons held low. Far from bounding out and giving them a ninja tail kicking, the cute blonde mouse in the jumpsuit was staying behind a plunger crossbow mounted on the rear of the plane.

"Give it up, mousie. That thing can't hurt us." yelled out one.

Despite the situation, Gadget couldn't help but reply. "I never designed it to hurt anyone. However, with the application of some basic laws of mechanics, it will stop you." She sighted carefully and fired, off to one side and behind the group. Before they could laugh it had bounced off a jutting piece of debris and rebounded across and behind them.

Since it was trailing a cable this was dragged across and caught one of the group. The plunger was pulled up short and started spinning round the trio like a swing-ball caught on a pole. Before they could blink the three were neatly trussed up. Attempts to cut the cable proved futile, since Gadget had the forethought to make it out of high tensile steel wire.

The rat who'd remained behind in the transporter was to surprised to act, but only for a second, having watched his buddies get demolished. Then he started it up and charged it forward to try and run down the big mouse, then ram and tip the plane, hopefully spilling the mouse inside. He had counted without Zipper though.

Having returned to his station above the fight after helping out his friend, the fly quickly saw the danger, and once again flew in to assist. He easily got into the open cabin of the crawler, and buzzed around the drivers head. This unworthy quickly lost all control of his vehicle, and with some assistance barely avoided running over his unconscious comrades before running into a junk wall. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't wearing his seat belt.

So it was that by the time Chip had returned, it was all over bar the shouting, which Monty was taking care of. The vole reappeared slowly, looking a bit stunned.

"Goodness! You really are as great as all the stories say!"

Chip ducked his head slightly, blushing. "As Gadget says, we give it our best effort. I hope you believe that we can run them out of the airport now."

"You know, I think you can at that. Don't worry, I can let people know.", the lady vole looked happier than she had before.

Chip paused in thought. "You could also get everyone to lie low if possible. We don't want any innocent bystanders involved. You could also tell me what else you know about them…"

&

The Rangerwing, completely restored, dropped down towards the front door landing deck of the Treehouse a couple of hours later. As the four intrepid adventurers came into the main room, they were greeted by a rather more perky, but still yawning Dale coming from the interior, munching on a piece of chocolate, and accompanied by Foxglove.

"Hiya, Chip! Back so soon? Did you get the place cleaned up already?"

The fedora clad chipmunk grinned. "You wish!"

"Uh huh, if I was wishing, it'd be for a big bag of chocolate coated peanuts." Dale licked his lips.

"You just had breakfast a couple a' hours ago! Besides you've been asleep."

"Well I gotta keep my strength up. After all I'm a very heavy sleeper, I burn lotsa calories."

"Huh? How d'you work that out?"

"S'easy. You lift a heavy weight, you use more energy. Same thing with sleeping."

Chip chuckled. "You goofball! Well, if snoozing and snacking builds up strength, you should be stronger than Monty."

"Hey! I resemble that remark!"

"As I said before, you wish! Besides what would you reassemble it as?"

The pair speeded up into chipmunk chatter, Chip's remarks pointed and polished, Dale's outrageous and overdone. Foxglove padded over to where Gadget, Zipper and Monty were watching. "I still can't get over it when they do this." she said with a worried expression, despite the fact that the chipmunks were clearly enjoying themselves.

"Don't fret Foxy-lass, it's just their way of showing they're friends."

"Golly, yes, at least they only spar verbally now." Gadget added.

As Dale came back with a rejoinder, "Chipper, your hat's on too tight!" Chip put his paws together in a T signal.

"Okay, okay... You win this one. Turns out we've got a bigger job of cleaning to do than we expected. It turns out a gang has taken over Gadget's old home, and are using some of her stuff to harm the locals. So we're going to have to clean them out."

"Wowie zowie! That's grreat!", Dale said, then noticed Gadget's unhappy expression. "Us having a real case I mean, not that they took over your home, gosh, that part's terrible…"

The girl mouse shook her head. "It's alright Dale… It's my fault for not taking better precautions."

Chip was at her side immediately. "You couldn't have foreseen this. You disabled the interior defences so no one would get hurt accidentally, and that should have been enough. Besides, all the really important stuff, like your construction robot, is sealed away, isn't it? We'll get it all back, and teach them not to mess with the Rescue Rangers."

A council of war was called around the front room table. Chip presided and explained, with colour commentary from Monty, what had happened. He finished off with,

"We packed those goons in a parcel, and dumped them in the cargo hold of a flight going to San Francisco. Even if they can catch a flight back straight away, we have a 12 hour breathing space. The locals are all away from their usual places and we policed the entire area, and left nothing but the transporter, and that Gadget fixed so it won't work, and they won't even be able to figure out what's wrong. Isn't that right Gadget?"

The mouse nodded. "I modified the intercoupling reflexer with a piece of wire so that it reciprocates rather than interlocking. It looks like it should work fine, but it won't. I also brought the parts I replaced with me and they're not going to find replacements. But Chip, I still don't understand why all these preparations."

Chip strode to the edge of the table. "We need to finish this fast, and they do outnumber us. We need every advantage we can get, and the way we've done things gives us one. They sent out 10 goons on an easy job and nothing came back. Finding the Transporter apparently intact but not working will just add to their confusion, if they even send out a follow up party.

"With the ten we disposed of, they have around 20 effectives, and I guarantee they'll be less effective with some unknown force that flies aeroplanes and makes entire goon squads disappear stalking the airfield. That's why we have to strike tonight, and cause as much additional confusion and fear as possible when we do. Hopefully their reaction to what we've done so far will be to fort up in the plane, making sure that they don't involve innocents. Plus it will give us the advantage of a well known battlefield. After all they've only been there a month, and Gadget practically built the place. Um… Gadget, would you show us where things are, so we can work out a plan of attack."

Gadget unrolled a blueprint of the plane on the table.

"This B25 was converted to a trainer, so the top, tail and waist turrets were sealed. My living quarters and work area were in the nose section, spread around the launching ramp for the old Screaming Eagle. According to Mrs Martlby they've made that section their place, with a throne made out of left over parts at the base of the ramp. from the sound of it, they don't realise they built that throne right on the waste ejection system. It used the ramp to fling anything I put on it to the airport waste dump.

"They've found the vehicle exit and used the local control panel to open it…" She pointed out the personnel hatch in the floor just forward of the wings and the booby trapped area, "…but not the exit door for the Screaming Eagle. I don't think they know about the fact that they can be triggered remotely. And unless one of them can build a 128 bit orthogonally sequenced radio modulator…" she placed a mouse sized radio controller with several buttons on onto the table, "…they're not opening it that way."

"My construction sphere and most of the heavy equipment are on the raised platform on the starboard side, which is reached by a lift. Once again they don't seem to have explored it much, and even if they had, it would have done them no good. The microwave that houses my construction sphere is locked tight, and so are the equipment bays and auxiliary power compartment. However they've certainly got into the storage area to port, and the inventing supplies on the ground. My parts transporter was down there because I'd left it on recharge.

"They've restored the booby trap section and force innocents to run through it for amusement." She looked genuinely annoyed, but got herself under control. "Anyway, back of that is the wing entrance route, the one you guys used. It's also where the power supply is. As well as a concealed line coming from the airport lighting circuit, I reworked the port motor to act as a wind turbine, charging batteries in the back of the nacelle. It operates when the prevailing wind is in the correct alignment, using a reciprocating…" She noticed the rest of the Rangers eyes glazing over, and stopped..

"On the raised wing tip there are the sensors and launchers of the Homeguard unit. It was the highest place on the craft. The fuselage section back of the wings was mainly used as a runway for the Screaming Eagle when it came back in through the top hatch. There's a human sized door back there, another late addition, and I used it to bring in large parts. It can be opened remotely too."

Chip nodded sagely. "Hmm… Is there a place where you can control the power from? The wind turbine maybe?"

"Sorry Chip, the main distribution frame is in the auxiliary power room, up front. But from there you can control almost anything."

"So getting control of it is vital… and without alerting anyone."

Dale looked confused. "You're thinking of trying to get through the traps, at night, with out alerting those bozos? Chip, you're cuh-razy!"

"That's my line, and I wasn't thinking of going through…"

&

It was party night in the new crib of the gang that called themselves the Ratz. Of course every night was party night, and the place looked it. A month's occupation by a bunch of sewer dwellers with unclean habits and zero housekeeping skill had turned most of the floor into a rubbish tip. In various places around the edge the trash heaped higher, usually where someone had made a bed. The only areas reasonably clean were a dance floor/ audience chamber in front of the throne, and the panel that swung down to open the floor hatch. Gadget had once dug out the paved surface underneath, creating a tunnel for vehicles that could be completely sealed off.

Two days before they'd made a raid into the civil airport terminal and managed to steal away with a most of the contents of a loaded service trolley. As a result, mixed in with the other trash were dozens of the miniature airline bottles of spirits and a number of airline dinner trays, picked clean. Some had even been converted, with the help of serviettes, into more comfortable beds.

But tonight the air of gaiety was forced, mostly because there were quite a few less creatures than normal involved. So while some of the males (and females) danced to some pounding tunes, courtesy of a pair of stereo speakers and a turntable on the port side of the dance floor. This was presided over by a rabbit with shades and a vest scribbled with 'Call me Mr Flopsy and die!'. Others just lazed and stuffed themselves, there were those who talked with heads close, or turned frequent glances to the closed hatch in the floor or glazed frames in the cockpit window.

One pair, a rat with a nasty scar on one cheek, and a beefy female mouse in a leather halter top and shorts had the misfortune, or lack of wits, to still be talking as they passed near to the big rat who sat on the throne. This worthy was as big as a cat, and muscled up so as to make Arnold Mousenegger look like a two ounce weakling.

He was being served with food and drink by a young female field mouse and a small female rat, both in rags, who were chained to the throne by metal cable ties and bath plug chain. The two gang members were interrupted as a tail with a metal spike slammed through the jar lid platter the rat was carrying, puncturing it.

"You two, stop jabbering and get over here!" Spike yelled. "And you…", he waved off handedly at the rat slave, "…get me some more eats! The good stuff!"

As the girl rat scampered off, or at least did the best she could with the chain dragging, the mouse hurried to pour out the drink into a gold coloured plastic goblet, the rat held out, a toy from the airport concession machines.

The art was the first to speak, in an apologetic tone. "Sorry boss! But…"

"But what, Scar?", the gang leader said menacingly.

"Well… it's just that Bandit and the others… well they still haven't come back. And there weren't no sign of what happened neither."

The bigger rat towered over the lesser one. "And you're all scared that the boogie mouse will come and get you too, izzat it?" The other rat cowered. "Uh… no boss…"

The leader's focus changed. He waved to the shades wearing rabbit who was controlling the turntable and the room fell silent.

"Now listen up, all a' ya. I been hearing a lotta freaked out jabberin' about Bandit and his lot not comin' back. I'll tell ya why. He managed to wreck the rig, and let that plane, or whatever, get away. He knows that when he does get back, me an him are gonna have a little talk."

A number of the gang, toughs though they were, cringed at that. When Spike 'talked', he tended to use his muscles and tail as punctuation. You were in for broken bones at least.

"Look around ya. I led ya all outta the sewer, and found us a better crib than any of ya ever had. Electric, food n' drink for the talking, and nobody to give us an argument but a buncha scared treehuggers n' seedmunchers. But even if's someone does want ta throw down, we got guards out. We're the Ratz and we run this place, and ain't nobody who can mess with us! Who are we?"

"The Ratz!" came back a chorus, but it wasn't loud enough to suit him.

"I don't hear ya! WHO ARE WE"

"THE RATZ!"

"WHO MESSES WITH US?"

"NOBODY!"

He sat back down, looking more satisfied. "And don't ya forget it! C'mon Hiphop, make with the tunes!"

The rabbit started up the turntable again.

&

Meanwhile, outside, the cool, crisp day had turned into a cold, soggy night, courtesy of a late afternoon cloudburst. It was cold and moonless, and the lights of the city and the airport proper were blocked by the retaining wall of the old yard, so only the stars shone down, making the shadows darker. The lights in the cockpit of the aircraft, and the glimmer of fires on the port engine cowling and wingtip were the only visible sources of light. The faint sound of the music from inside was audible even over here.

This made the red LED lantern an invisible source, at least invisible if you were outside the carefully shielded area it illuminated. The Rangers, under the cover of darkness, had managed to approach to the limit of the Home guard system's sonar, and had set up camp in the lee of an even more wrecked plane, about 30 metres to the port of their target.. Foxglove's hearing and Zipper's careful scouting had made sure that as yet they had been unobserved. Now a pair of Gadget's best binoculars peered in the direction of the occupied plane.

"Look at it!", Chip said quietly, "Open fires at the guard posts, giving away their positions and wrecking their night vision… unless they have concealed observers as well… Foxglove?"

"I can't hear any. There are two guys by the fire on top of the engine, playing dice. The one on the left is losing heavily. They're cold, tired and bored. There are people up on top of the wing tip, but I can't tell anything more because Gadget's sonar is making too much noise from the same place. If anyone else is outside, they're silent as well as freezing. Oh, and the guy in charge just made a speech about how tough they were. Sounds like there's rumbling in the ranks."

"Noice work, Foxy-lass." Said Monty. "Sounds like you could tell everything but what colour their fur is."

The bat-girl blushed. "Well I wouldn't go quite that far…" She paused. "Wait a second, the sonar's stopped… There are two guys there, talking about some female, they don't seem to have noticed the change."

Gadget spoke up. "If Zipper has shorted out the junction box at the amplification modulator, there's no reason they should. The telltale will still show an active circuit, because there is. It's just not going through the transmitter array. The only way they could tell is if there was a big object in view and there was no response on the mapometric plotter."

Foxglove spoke up. "Speaking of Zipper, he's on his way back." Seconds later, the fly zoomed in low, hugging the ground all the way and landed on the rim of metal that shielded them from the plane. "Zall clear!"

Chip nodded. "Then we're good to go! Did you see anyone down by the vehicle entrance when you circled the place?"

"Zuhuh." Zipper was fairly emphatic.

Dale, ever ready with a quip, chirped in. "Heh, Chipper, you usually havta have a plan. Now you're acting on the fly."

A massed groan ensued, except for Chip who retorted. "Not that I don't trust Foxglove's hearing, but confirmation is always good. I know you'd have gone on Foxy's say so alone, but then, you tend to do things off your own bat."

More groans. Monty summed up. "If you lads are finished with the comedy, we got a poundin' to hand out."

"You're right. Rescue Rangers away!" The pair scampered off towards the port wing of the plane. Chip was in his regular flight jacket and fedora, but wore a dark vest underneath and a scarf mask to cover his patches of lighter fur. Gadget was in her coveralls, but wore a matching golfball helmet that covered her shining blonde hair, and her goggles were down. Both wore rucksacks, and Gadget had a modifier plunger crossbow strapped to hers. Against the starlit grey tarmac they were as good as invisible.

"See you soon Monty! C'mon Foxy…" Dale looked around for his bat girlfriend, but she'd already disappeared. He clambered up the side of the wreck to the top surface, where his black, bat winged glider was set up and anchored on a catapult. It carried saddlebags and a strapped on small (25 gram) CO2 canister of the sort used in soda stream machines and tire inflators. Dale enjoyed dressing up, and tonight was no exception. He had swapped his ubiquitous Hawaiian shirt for black shirt, trousers and a matching bandanna and face mask. His darning needle rapier was strapped across his back where it wouldn't swing or catch.

The red light had left his night vision unaffected, so he could see, vaguely, that Foxglove was already there. She was unencumbered but had donned ninja style gear that matched her fur colour, and had large gussets in the top half for her wings. She gave a twirl. "Do you like it cutie?"

"Gosh, Foxy… that's a really neat outfit!"

That brought a happy giggle. "I'm glad you think so. I always wanted to cosplay a kunoichi, (Dale heard the term as female ninja) and then you inspired me with your tales, so I had this costume made. This is the first time I've gotten to use it. And are you my perfect Dread Pirate Williams?"

"Yeah… I mean 'As you wish… my dearest Foxglove.'" Dale did a courtly bow, just as if he were in the Bride Princess. This got him a kiss and a hug when he came back up. But one thing puzzled him. "But why did you race off before me?"

"Silly darling, I didn't want you to see me while I was getting changed, of course!"

"Uh… but you were already…" Dale was about to say something, but being Dale, he just shrugged and got ready. After moving the catapult to face the wind, Dale strapped in and hit the release with his foot. With a soft thump, his glider soared into the sky, Foxglove flying up to meet him. They flew into the wind, gaining height from the extra lift. Dale's glider was slow to rise with the additional supplies on it, until he triggered the CO2 canister which acted like a booster jet. As they rose, they drifted so they would be directly upwind of the plane's raised wingtip.

&

Meanwhile, down below, Chip and Gadget had reached their first target. As they'd gotten closer, they'd been able to see the pair outlined by the fire, built up in a half soup can with holes punctured in it. They were exactly where they would be expected, camped in the open section of the cowling that exposed the cylinder heads that served as an access route up from the landing leg. Anyone foolish enough to go up that way would expose themselves to a quick rap on the head as they emerged.

They now stood under the rear part of the port engine, shielded from observation (such as it was) from the guards on top. Gadget unlimbered her plunger crossbow and switched on the under-slung, key-fob size laser pointer. A bright but tightly focussed point of light roamed across the underside of the engine casing as she searched for something. Suddenly the finger of light found what it was looking for. "there!" she whispered. Shifting the aim of the crossbow slightly to one side, she fried and a plunger carried a cable up to stick on the cowling.

Chip was up it, almost before the plunger had stopped quivering. Hanging just below the metal, he reached out and pulled carefully on an almost invisible handle, now the target of the laser pointer's illumination. A hatch started to swing down, squeaking slightly, but a guiding paw slowed it's opening into silence. Chip pulled himself up and inside, then deliberately hung out as Gadget inched her way up the line after him. She had donned her plunger cup boots, and when she reached the top, spider-walked to the hatch, where she was helped in by Chip.

Around them stood the lead acid batteries and electronics of the main power supply room. At the front end, and up a set of ramps was a window sized hatch, just large enough for someone to scramble through, and dimly illuminated by the light from the laser pointer. As Gadget removed her plunger cups, Chip pointed towards it and Gadget nodded. They snuck up to the door, and Gadget reloaded, hefted her crossbow and sighted on it, turning her laser off. Chip had oiled the hinges with an eyedropper oilcan, and then pulled a sphere from inside his backpack. The orb fitted like a bowling ball in his paw. His other hand had found the hatch handle.

Although there was no crack to let in light, there was the murmur of voices from beyond it. Without the light, Chip waited until he felt the tip of Gadget's tail touch his forearm with a deliberate tap. Once, twice, three times, and on the third time he pulled the door open. There was a tableau, the two rats sitting round the tin can fire, one almost facing them, the other with his back to them. The facing one didn't seem to notice the sudden deepening of a rectangle of blackness behind his friend, but he did notice the incoming plunger, because it smacked him right in the kisser.

As his friend suddenly rose, and tried manfully…ratfully to pull the plunger from his face, the other guard jumped up and spun round. He got a faceful of ball, which shattered to coat his face with tacky, amorphous goo. Originally a gumball, it had been injected with a Gadget developed catalyst that weakened the shell and altered the viscosity of the chickle inside. The result was massively sticky and harder to remove than superglue. Blinded and half suffocated by their respective projectiles, they were easily subdued.

Meanwhile, Dale and Foxy hovered in the night sky, above and beyond the raised wingtip, observing the pair of goons who were supposed to be watching the sonar station. The flying Rangers could also see the other pair of guards, and were ready to swoop instantly, if it looked like their pair had noticed anything when Chip and Gadget attacked. Fortunately the two goons were to busy talking to each other, actually arguing was closer to the mark.

As the others went in, Dale waved a hand, trusting to Foxy's sonar to detect it and wheeled into the wind, diving on the raised wingtip. He drew up his legs as he got closer and pulled a variation on a trick he did with Chip one time. He dropped onto the shoulders of one of the two and wrapped his legs around the guy's neck, tilting the pitch of the glider frame upwards as he did so. The wind caught it and dragged the pair of them backwards and up, hauling the bad guy up onto his feet, and half throttling him. The guy scrabbled at first at the legs wrapping his neck, but to no avail. Then he dropped one hand to his waist and drew a bobby pin, ground down into a nasty little poinard.

Dale was ready for him though. As soon as he was in place, one hand dropped from the control bar of the glider to draw his rapier. The rapier intercepted the goon's hand as it flashed up, smacking his wrist and causing the poinard to drop from his numbed fingers. As a follow up, Dale gave a sharp rap to the guy's temple, just below one ear and he slumped down. Dale unlocked his legs and let the wind lift him up and away before he dived in to land properly.

Foxglove had taken a rather simpler route. When a sonar guided projectile massing one third someone's body weight drops on their head from a considerable height, they usually proceed to examine the inside of their eyelids for a while. And so it was. Foxglove had a chance to look around as Dale made his landing pass. The actual tip of the wing was missing and a floor had been placed across the first internal brace, making a platform about 2 feet across and 8 inches wide. At each end were the Homeguard launchers, mounted on rotating turrets and near one was a map and plotting device, similar to the one Gadget had built for her weather detector. A hatch lead down inside the wing. The goons had added nothing but a tin can fire and a number of leftovers.

Dale had landed and was now leaning over the goon he'd dispatched, listening to his chest. He looked up to see Foxglove observing. "Another bad guy brought low by my rapier wit." This brought a chuckle from Foxglove. Then he changed his speech pattern to emulate a different tone. "'I do not envy you the headache you will have when you awake. But for now, sleep, and dream of lady rats.'" he misquoted.

Foxglove pulled a red LED torch from one of the saddlebags on the tied down glider and pointed it over the edge, flashing it three times. In seconds a spot of laser light illuminated a point on the side of a Homeguard launcher, and flashed three times in return.

Down below, Gadget turned from signalling and strode over to Chip, who was patiently waiting by the flexible hose slide that led down into the main fuselage of the plane. "ready?", he whispered.

He held out his hands in an almost courtly gesture, and when she took them, lowered the mouse inventor down between the hoses. Her face took on a look of concentration as she reached out with her tail, feeling around for a distinctive shape. Suddenly her tail tip brushed over it, and with a little grunt she used the tip to pull on a concealed toggle switch that clicked.

"Okay Chip, you can pull me up…", she stated as Chip suited action to words. "… the motion detector on the tube is disconnected… well actually it's shorted, since the circuit is broken when the tube moves down under the weight of something in the tube, and to cut the line or break the circuit in any way would trigger an alarm… Umm, maybe we'd better just go."

She jumped into the tube and Chip quickly followed her. They let out on a padded cushion inside the fuselage. In one direction, the vast dark space of the tail section spread, in the other, the lit up nose, and between them and it, the minefield of booby traps. If anything, these looked even more complex and lethal than when Chip had first negotiated them with Dale and Monty. In broad daylight finding a safe route would be tricky. It the half light that currently filtered from the front, it was nearly impossible. Of course it was equally unlikely that anyone in the nose could see them.

"Time to go up and over…" Chip said as he sat down and tied a pair of plunger cups to his feet and wrists. Gadget was doing the same. Chipmunks were excellent climbers, but even he didn't want to risk free-climbing the inside of the metal hull, no matter how many fittings and paw-holds there were. After securing their packs and every other article against anything falling out while inverted, they slowly made their way up the inside of the hull, keeping behind an interior frame. Where it met the roof, they removed their hand suckers and moved round to stand inverted, as Gadget had earlier.

They made their way forward above the minefield of trap triggers, using the brackets and frames that held the traps to the roof as cover. Halfway across, Gadget stopped by a big horizontal cylinder, and spent a moment attaching several things to it with tape. Chip was her willing assistant, for everything used had to be held against falling and alerting the goons to their presence. They continued forward, moving between mountings and through frames until they reached the edge of the traps. Now all that remained was to make the relatively short move to the table, less than a foot away. Unfortunately, though once on the table they'd be screened from the floor, there was no cover in between.

They had a plan, but Chip had his binoculars out again, and quickly found a problem.

He whispered urgently. "gadget! look down at the guy on the throne! he has two girls with him, and if they're part of the ratz, than i'm ditz."

Gadget took the binoculars and examined the scene. "Chains!" Chip put his paw near her lips to remind her to keep it down, though over the pounding music it probably wasn't necessary. She proceeded to fume more quietly, remembering Rat Capone, and the sewer palace affair. "we have to free those poor creatures! ohhh, i'm going to personally give that piece of sewer trash a swift kick in the cockpit…."

"problem. they're chained to the throne and need freeing before phase three. plus, dale and foxy might try, rather than sticking to the plan." Chip gritted his teeth. The metal hull would have made Gadget's 'Ramawamadingdong' radio inoperative, even if they could find space for the big base station transceiver in their backpacks. He wished Zipper was here as a relay, but Monty needed him to help with the other elements of the scheme.

Gadget thought for a moment. "The chains should provide no problems. I've got a cigarette lighter blowtorch down there that will cut through them in a jiffy."

Chip grimaced. The words 'should' and 'no problems' were never good. "Plus I won't be up there to put the power back on."

"I'll build a timed switch to do it instead. You can use my spare harpoon to get down there." she said as she tied off the back end of the harpoon line she'd loaded into her crossbow, onto the bracing.

Chip sighed then nodded. "Well, it's not like we have a choice, let's go!"

Gadget pressed a button on her radio controller.

****

Station break again… Isn't that always the way?

Up on the roof, Foxglove and Dale were waiting by the roof exit for the Screaming Eagle, bags beside them. Gliding across from the wingtip had been easy enough, and both were skilled enough to make a landing without any bumps or thumps that might attract attention from below. They were waiting to start the next part of the plan, and Dale was getting antsy.

"C'mon, c'mon, when are we going to start…" he exclaimed, gesticulating wildly as he paced back and forth.

"Don't worry cutie, Chip did say it'd take them longer to get ready. They have to walk all the way."

Dale peered down through the glass at the throne below, where Spike sat in state. The slave girls were out of eyeshot. "Now that's what I call a Rodent of Unusual Size."

Suddenly, the hatch popped open.

"Yes!" Dale bounded gleefully to the entrance and pulled several balls out of it. Foxglove was already holding two. "Bombs away!"

The two of them started hurling the things which smashed into the metal floor below and exploded into clouds of stinking smoke. "Taste Stink n' Smoke bombs, foul miscreants!" Dale hollered, capering along the edge as he threw more.

This display drew attention from every mammal not rolling around on the floor with their paws over their faces. The smelly smoke carpeted the ground, and in billows at least half a foot high. With everybody's attention fixed on the hatch Gadget had the perfect distraction to shoot. The harpoon plutted into the wall of a piece of machinery on the bench, and stuck forming a zipline that Chip and Gadget lost no time in sliding down.

Gadget moved fast. Locked cabinets opened before her deft touch, and within ten's of seconds an odd, but useable contraption had formed under her paw-tips. By this time Chip had reloaded her plunger crossbow with a harpoon plunger and gotten the blowtorch from the cabinet she'd unlocked. The bad guys were just starting to rally, and a few of the tougher ones had started clambering up the ramp towards Dale and Foxglove, clutching various unpleasant weapons. Then the lights went out.

Chip guided himself along the wall and the various boxes by touch and remembered sight. Down below there were screams and running as the last semblance of order fell apart. Rather than create a second zip-line, he used the plunger harpoon to set the cable into the ceiling, working mostly by intuition. He quickly slid down and edged around the edge of the nose cone, holding the collar of his flight jacket across his nose and mouth

Meanwhile, Spike, by dint of shouting louder than the rest, was restoring some kind of order. "Stop runnin' around like a bunch a' bugs and lets get those fools! And get some lights on…"

This was at least partially obeyed, but not by any of the remaining Ratz. A pair of orange beacons mounted low on the wall under the workbench started up and a siren started wailing. There was a whine as a big blocky shape slowly sunk from the table above on an extending support. It rotated to as well, allowing them to see a big glazed pane and a half shadowed bulbous shape behind it. When it reached the floor, it pinged, and the front opened.

Gadget's Battle-sphere, back lit by the light of it's garage microwave, walked forward. Gadget's voice, amplified, sounded across the space. "If you like my inventions so much, you big goon, try this one on for size!"

"That's tellin' 'em!" an Australian accented voice called out. A pair of big mag-lights flashed on from the direction of the vehicle entrance, which had mysteriously opened during the panic. The lights were mounted on the Gyrotank, with Monterey Jack and Zipper at the controls. As soon as the lights went off, he'd raced the wheeled tank from their hiding place towards the hostage aircraft. The personnel hatch, and the tunnel beneath it were open, and clear of guards. The quiet whine of the hairdryer that pushed the Gyrotank had been lost in the commotion.

Dale and Foxglove weren't idle during the blackout. Foxglove's sonar sense kept her aware of exactly what was happening down there, and allowed her to fling projectiles with great accuracy as Dale handed them to her. The few goons who had tried to reach them quickly retreated under the blistering bombardment. The throne was quickly coated in the same highly sticky goo that Chip had immobilised the guard with. Of course Foxglove could also sense the two vehicles, and locked on Gadget's "A real mecha! Cool! Sugoi" she exclaimed. "I hope Gadget lets me have a go!"

The lights came back up, and the two armoured mice went to work. Gadget used the gripping arm of her mecha to pick up individual goons around the edges and fling them at the throne. Monty had a different method, driving the Gyromobile right into the middle of the largest group of about eight, who scrambled frantically to get out of the way.

"Roight pally, lets make a few all day suckers!" the big Aussie mouse grinned.

"Zaye aye!" Zipper was hovering over some newly added controls, and flipped a toggle switch as half as big as he was. The hairdryer rotated to point straight up, mating with a new gasket on the roof of the Gyrotank, and went into top speed, drawing air in through the ring of plungers, and turning them into a set of powerful vacuums. Their effect was quickly felt as one, then another goon was sucked up onto the wheel that ringed the main body of the Gyrotank.

Monty moved the Gyrotank around a bit to catch all of them, while Zipper started jazzing another control. The gyro-ring started spinning back and forth, carrying the hapless villains with it. A magno-ray generator popped up out over the ring and relieved them of any inconvenient pieces of sharp and pointy metal as they passed underneath.

Zipper was staring down into a original Star Trek style periscope as Monty made some final adjustments to the position of the tank. "Zin line!" he buzzed.

"You may fire when you are ready, Mr Zipper!", Monty yelled.

The gyro-ring started to spin up to full speed. As each of the gangers came into a tangent line with the throne, Zipper released the pressure on their suction cup. One by one the goons were dropped onto the throne, and quickly glued to it by Foxglove's precision gumballs.

Meanwhile Chip had sneaked up through the gantry behind the throne. The two serving girls had huddled up there where a couple of pitiful little piles of cloth scraps and paper made a resting place. There were also some trays now empty of food and half empty bottles. They were holding onto each other, the mouse was crying and the rat comforting her, and didn't notice at first the chipmunk coming up behind them.

When the mouse did notice she gave out a startled squeak. Chip immediately put his paw to his mouth and drew down his mask. "Shhh! I'm here to rescue you. My friends are distracting them."

He quickly hung a loop of chain from the near the mouse's manacle onto the gantry and fired up the cigarette lighter blowtorch. In seconds the chain parted. He started to do the same to the rat's chain, but as he did, she yelped, "Look out!", and pointed behind him.

He spun and saw a female squirrel in an Iron Goose print t-shirt and slit skirt bearing down on him with a wicked looking carving knife turned scimitar. This dame had originally decided discretion to be the better part of valour, and running away to be the better part of discretion, but felt quite up to tackling a single chipmunk, even if he had a lit cigarette lighter. Chip back pedalled, thinking furiously. The lighter was useless as a weapon against her. Oh, if it even brushed her fur, or that long bushy tail it would scorch, but in the meantime she'd be making chipmunk fillets with her longer reach.

Seeing one of the discards of the party, he suddenly had a plan. He scooped up a bottle and took a big swig, then stood his ground. Sensing victory, the squirrel raced forward with a battle-cry, just as he sprayed out the mouthful of spirits right into the flame of the lighter, and side-stepped. The squirrel was engulfed in a fire, and stumbled out the other side with blackened fur and a lit tail tip, white eyes blinking comically.

The squirrel was down, but not out. She wheeled and swung at the chipmunk, but her aim was no longer so good, and Chip easily ducked underneath it, carrying the end of a cut chain. He looped it around legs and pulled, binding the legs together. She immediately did an impromptu impression of a tree in a logging area. Still having more toughness than sense, she tried to get up, only to receive a bonk on the noggin courtesy of a stick held by the rat.

Chip was surprised, but pleased. "Thanks. You're handy with that Miss…"

The girl rat grinned. "Rebecca Hawthorne. Glad to help. I'm the pinch hitter on the neighbourhood little league team. I'll take care of my chain, you go and help your friends."

Meanwhile, the battle wasn't going all the Ranger's way. The rabbit, Hip Hop had ducked behind a speaker stack when the imbroglio started. There he pulled out a nasty looking pellet gun, converted from a child's potato gun, and hulking as large as a heavy rifle in his paws. He aimed up at the roof hatch to try and get one of the un-armoured targets.

The pellet was aimed at the loud one in black (Dale), but Foxglove's sonar detected it incoming. She body checked him to one side, even as she called, "Dale! Look…" The pellet grazed her temple, just beside one of her great delicate ears, and she toppled and fell from the edge of the hatch. Dale reached for her and almost fell after her. "Foxy! Nooo!"

While dazed, she wasn't completely out of it, and as she fell, she threw open her wings and controlled it, landing heavily upon one of the speaker stacks. The player had gotten switched off during the blackout and the speakers were quiet. Dale had grabbed his glider, knocking down one of the bags of ammo to hang on the peak of the ramp in his eagerness. He jumped off without strapping in and glided down just hanging on by his paws. He dropped down beside her, letting the glider drift on where it would.

He dropped down beside her and was shocked to see a pool of red forming underneath her. "Foxy-mitten, are you okay?"

The newest Ranger put one wingtip to her head. "Uhhh… yes, I think so, but I have a bit of a headache." She looked down. "Oh no!" Dale looked worried until she continued. "I landed right on my emergency sachet of ketchup."

Seeing that she wasn't seriously hurt allowed Dale to regain some of his composure, but he was still mad at the bunny for beating on his bat belle and decided to give him a bashing. The rabbit was trying to reload his weapon as Dale appeared at the edge of the speaker, silhouetted by the lights above. The rabbit tried to shoot him, but this time Dale was ready and dropped as soon as he saw the gun raised. The shot thudded overhead

He reappeared. Foxglove was sitting up, silently cheering him on, so there was really only one thing he could say (in a Spanish accent of course). "Hallo! My name is Dale Oakmont. You hurt my girlfriend. Prepare to be seasoned!"

"Bring it, shortie!" the lapine layabout leered. He pulled out a trident, made from a flattened and sharpened fork. But Dale had already jumped, angling to land on the counterweight of the needle arm. He landed and the other end flipped up, catching the rabbit a daisy one under the jaw. This was followed up by simultaneously jumping and letting the counterweight come up as the rabbit lunged forward with his trident, dropping the arm on his head and poking him in the ear with the needle.

Dale landed on the rabbits head, squirted the remains of Foxglove's packet in his eyes and scampering down his back to position his rapier right over the cotton ball tail. He poked down and jumped up at the same time, and with a yahoooie! the rabbit went ballistic, literally, arcing over the battlefield and ending up smacking head first into the Gyrotank. Dale of course had landed facing the other way, towards the wall, so Foxglove's warning, "Cutie! Behind you!" was his first apprehension that things weren't over.

Three goons had somehow escaped the main brouhaha, and were clambering up onto the turntable, all holding nasty, pointy painful weapons. "Awww! Three against one, that's not fair!" Dale complained.

"We don't do fair!" the mouse in the lead sneered.

"Uh uh, I mean, maybe I should do you all left handed, otherwise it'll be too easy!" He took a stance right over the spindle.

Foxglove watched from above, worried. Despite his bravado, Dale could probably get seriously hurt if he took on three bigger opponents. Then she saw an opportunity. She dropped from the speaker stack like an avenging angel, if angels had leathery wings and clawed feet. She landed on the turntable controls, slammed the speed up to 78 and switched it on in a single movement.

Dale, in the centre and braced, was almost unaffected. The three goons however, were on the edge, and the sudden jerk put them off balance and flailing wildly. Before they could set themselves, they'd been spun round half a circle to where Foxglove hovered. she proceeded to show them some fancy footwork. Bap! Wham! Kapowie! Three strikes later there were three groaning, semi-conscious figures piled up behind the turntable. She switched it off and dropped down on the centre to hug Dale.

"Aww! Foxy, I coulda handled 'em…" Dale said, but when she started to look crestfallen, he added. "…Probably, but I'm glad I didn't have to. That was some quick thinkin'." He decided to lighten the mood with a quip. "I don't know why they said they didn't do fair. They made great carousel horses." This was accompanied by his most cheesy grin, which made her giggle.

Gadget had also run into some tough resistance, to whit Spike. He had ducked away, only to come out from one side with a chunk of metal the size of his head that he lobbed like a shot put thrower at her mecha. She parried with the spatula arm, but the paddle bent alarmingly before it sprung back into shape. He yelled and charged in, and Gadget quickly found herself fighting for her life.

His fists held off her manipulators, and dented the metal. But his steel shod tail did the real damage, striking like a snake at joints, feeling out weak spots. Two wheeled legs were quickly disabled, followed by her gripping arm. Then his tail drew back and slammed into the small direct vision porthole in the front of the sphere. The glass starred, and it was clear that a couple more hits would hole through allowing him to wreak havoc on the piloting compartment and it's occupant.

It was at this point Chip intervened. He'd seen the last part of the duel and immediately picked up a rod of metal. He quickly discarded it as from the thickness of his skull and bulging columnar neck, this guy would probably shrug off any swipe he could inflict. Monty couldn't ram because the gang leader was too close to Gadget's Battlesphere. But he had to do something. Then he had an idea. It was risky, off the wall and had several other things in it's favour.

As the tail whipped back for another strike, Chip dashed from cover and headed right for the back of Spike. The rat ignored his progress, clearly thinking that one unarmed chipmunk couldn't be a threat. Chip jumped and landed just short of the rat's huge backside, then bent and grabbed the root end of Spike's tail, holding onto a section between two paws. Then he bent forward and bit with all his jaw power.

The rat immediately forgot all about the Battlesphere, jumping up and whipping around with Chip waving like a flag. The rat hauled him off and threw him away like a baseball. Chip was flung to the front of the plane, and skidded just short of the glass. He hurt, but he was glad. Not only had he diverted the bozos attention, but he had landed in a good place. He had needed to get to the gantry, but right around the base at the far end a sort of mini-dump had accreted from lose debris that had failed to be ejected by the launcher system. Landing in that would not have been fun.

"Rrrraaaggggh! I'LL ROAST YOU! I'LL TEAR YOUR TAIL OFF AND FEED IT TO YOU!" Spike had totally lost it, and was racing towards him like the wrath of a particularly unpleasant god. Chip sprung to his feet, ignoring the pain signals from various parts of his body as they disagreed with the move. He scrambled up the side of the gantry, finally getting over and onto the track-way.

He looked down. Spike was following. Time to increase the boiling point. "At least my tail will probably taste better, you lame excuse for a bandit!" Chip made a spitting sound, and moved something from his jacket to behind his back. "I'm gonna need an entire bottle of mouthwash after this is over…whoa!" He jumped back as Spike hauled himself over the edge of the ramp, turned and ran up towards the peak.

Gadget had activated the door release on her servo-armour and scrambled down even as it still unscrewed. It was safe enough, since the rest of their opponents were either stuck to the throne, or hors d' combat in other ways.

She watched with growing worry as the big rat chased Chip up the ramp. Her mind had automatically calculated factors of muscle mass and leverage and the result matched with the resistance he'd put up to the Battlesphere. If Spike got his hands on Chip, he could really rip him in two. The leader of the Rangers did know a bit about in-fighting, and had spent some painful hours getting Monty to teach him more, but against this behemoth, his training would be as much use as a three way riffle-sprocket in a polarising flange assembly. And Chip was even taunting the giant...

She suddenly realised what he must be trying to do. She pressed a button on her remote. The section of flooring that held the throne dropped into a recess that had once held the guts of controls for the bomber, and now held the trash compactor. There were some mechanical whirrs and clunks and after a few seconds the floor popped back up with the whole group of goons squosed up in a big ball. Due to hyper-elastic deformation, none of them were hurt, but they'd have some serious aches and pains when they got untangled.

Up above, Chip had reached the very top of the ramp, and was looking around, even as Spike stormed up the runway behind him. Then the whole peak disappeared in a cloud of stinking smoke. She bounded forward, just as an object fell out of the cloud and smacked into the ground below the peak. The smoke cleared to show Spike standing at the very peak of the ramp, roaring victoriously.

"An' I'll lay all your little friends out beside ya!"

Gadget's heart skipped. But that meant... She punched a button on the control with a grim expression. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU... YOU!"

From the heights of the roof a pool cue swung down, held level by a pair of parallel struts. About halfway down the firecracker rockets she'd attached ignited, giving a JATO assist to gravity. The point slammed into the struggling ball just as the firecrackers banged, giving their last joule of energy to its strike.

The ball shot up the ramp as if jet propelled, carrying the big rat off the end of the ramp and out through the Screaming Eagle's launching hatch. Gadget ignored this, racing towards the flooring below. Once again her calculations suggested something she didn't want to accept. Chip was... hurt, (she wouldn't use the more appropriate word), and that hurt inside her as deeply as when her father...

Her mind thought it's way through the pattern of logical inferences, and since it was an exceptional mind it could do a lot of thinking in a very short time. When she first joined up with the two chipmunks she'd been somewhat clueless but not completely oblivious about what was happening. She'd recognised that they were both flirting with her to some extent, but accepted it since similar things had been happening ever since she'd started blossoming out. Actually it was kind of sweet. At least neither of them had been obnoxious about it, unlike some of the visitors after her fathers death.

She hadn't taken it seriously, since Dale flirted with almost any female, and Chip seemed as dedicated to his crimefighting as she was to engineering. That was why she had been so devastated when she'd thought she could no longer contribute during the Cola Cult business. She had so few real friends that thinking she'd lost her only reason for being with them had hurt terribly. Though Chip had tried to stop her, come to think of it, but then had to stay and help with Myron. She should have stayed too, and listened.

Soon after Dale met up with Foxglove, and his flirting diminished. Chip's obvious approaches had too. Indeed, his whole manner seemed to change after the Giant Pearl incident and the tap dancing penguins. He'd started visiting the library and then getting less bossy, and more considerate. For her, he was simply there when she needed someone to talk to, or search through junk piles with. For someone with such a limited technical education, his questions had been surprisingly intelligent and some of his ideas for applying her devices ingenious.

She suddenly realised how much she'd grown to rely on this calmer, more thoughtful Chip. He couldn't leave her now... She scampered forward on four paw drive, absently noticing that others were coming up behind her. This area, below the gantry, was dimly lit, because of it's shadow, and it took a few seconds to interpret the scene before her, both because of the dimness and the sudden watering of her eyes.

Whatever had fallen had smashed straight into the junk, splintering glass and wood. A fedora had floated down after it and hung up on a shard. Gadget immediately grabbed it and held onto it for dear life. The shards had had ripped and splashed the contents of the object, leaving visible splashes of thick carmine, vermillion and veridian and a fruity scent...

This was flagged up to Gadget's mind as something inconsistent and she took a second look. She realised with massive relief that it had to have been one of Dale's saddlebags, open and still half full of reworked gumballs which had splattered like paint balls on impact. Then something brushed her face, and she looked up.

Chip, minus fedora but still plus everything else was sliding down his homemade grapnel line, the end of which was right by her. He dropped lightly to the ground beside her. "That was perfect Gadget! You caught him at exactly the right..."

He was hit with a projectile mouse who then proceeded to emulate one of Foxglove's best hugs, sobbing onto his shoulder. His paws went around her back, carefully, as if holding the most fragile thing in the world. "Hey, it's okay. I know that goober did a lot of damage, but we'll have this place fixed up in no time, you'll see."

This made her look up in surprise. "You... dummy! That wasn't what I was crying about. I thought..."

Chip noticed her holding his fedora with the grip of death, and the mess. "Oh... you mean... Well it was an accident. I dropped that stink n' smoke bomb to give myself cover while I hooked the grapnel to the frame below the ramp. As I jumped, holding the rope, I must have knocked that saddlebag off the projection it was on. The idea was to make him think he'd finished me, and put him in position for you. If anything the bag helped, but I never though anyone else would be watching. I'm sorry I caused you to worry."

"Golly…" she gulped, "I guess I overreacted. I'm sorry I cried all over your jacket." She sniffled.

Chip smiled gently. "I said it was waterproof, and there for crying on if you needed it."

That started her giggling, even as he offered her a handkerchief for the tears.

The rat Rebecca was watching, as were most of the other Rangers. "Darn! Why are all the good ones taken…" she muttered to the newly freed girl mouse beside her.

&

It was a few days later. Gadget looked out over her newly cleaned and refurbished home. The winter sunlight was shining in brightly no sign of the Ratz presence remained. They had been collected from the rubbish dump and a combined force of the locals and the Rangers had shown the disarmed, demoralised and defeated group the boundaries, and told them to get across it. Gadget had even made a trolley out of an abandoned skateboard so they could take their junk, including turntable and speakers with them. Spike had blustered and raged, but even he couldn't have prevailed against the combined force.

Rebecca and Marie had been captured just the day before, while out scavenging for food. They hadn't suffered any serious injuries, and quickly recovered. The neighbours had pitched in helping with the clean up too, including one girl rat who seemed to be hanging around Chip, much like Tammy, but not being as obvious about it. This gave Gadget odd feelings as if someone was using one of her designs without permission. Chip was however showing no signs of reacting to the kids blandishments, which was pleasing. Gadget had come up to the workshop ledge to go over her final engine designs and contemplate these odd new feelings.

She'd never considered herself a part of the lists of love (she wasn't exactly sure what sort of list this was, or where it was written but suspected she wasn't even a footnote). When she was younger, such romantic novels as were reprinted or published by small animal publishers just weren't as interesting as Scientific Rodentia or Mouse Mechanics Monthly. The idea that she might be attached strongly to one person scared her, after how she felt on the loss of her father.

However, in response to her surprising reactions a few nights ago, she'd decided to treat it like a scientific phenomenon to investigate, something she did understand. One of her researches was into the phenomenology and apparent symptomology of romantic attraction. The nearest source had turned out to be Foxglove's small collection of human girl's comics from Japan or shojo dojinshi as she pronounced it.

It certainly seemed to be a lot of trouble, involving accidentally bumping into people on the street, and walking in on one another in the bathroom, and endless misunderstandings due to insufficient redundancy in communication channels, but well worth it if a successful application was achieved. She apparently had some of the symptoms, but was having great trouble reducing the problem into nice solvable equations as there were far too many unknowns.

Of course she also had Foxglove's example. Her trial solution seemed to be effective, but she wasn't sure the same methodology would work between her and Chip. There were repeated injunctions about acting within her nature, and that wasn't hers, or Chip's. Plus she'd probably melt into a little pool of embarrassment at acting like that. The generalised problem appeared harder than a tenth order integral in six dimensions, but even more interesting than Fermat's theorem (for which she'd found a general proof before her teens). Even her specific case might take a lifetime to investigate.

"Well hopefully I'll have an experienced investigator with me to help me investigate it." she said out loud.

"What's that Gadget?" Chip's voice called out from behind her. He was carrying a tray with toothpaste cap mugs and a her thimble thermos full of what had to be cold apple juice.

She blushed. "Oh … nothing. I was just double checking my engine designs. This is my masterpiece and I'm making sure that there are no 'shoulds' about it." Maybe this was the time to start her investigation of this new problem. "Would you like to help me? You have an eye for details, and organising things."

Chip's happy expression in response gave her a warm little feeling inside. "Right now, I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing." he replied. The two of them sat in the sun, drinking apple juice and planning for tomorrow, when the real work would begin.

****

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

****

On a Wingnut and a Prayer – Part 2

Gadget glanced over the instrument panel of the newly christened 'Screaming Eagle II' and saw that it was good. Her view of the 'Hangar B 25' as Dale had named her old home, and the wheeled two litre cola bottle that now did duty as a fuel tanker, was unobstructed. This was unsurprising, because the entire front quarter of the aircraft above the level of the deck was transparent, except where the nose cone rose above the deck level and cut off a central half circle to about a third of the deck height. This was were the twin OLED displays, removed from a defunct mobile phone, were mounted.

"Everything looks okay here guys." her voice came over the outside speaker. "Ready for boarding."

From the outside, the Screaming Eagle II had the general appearance of a medium haul passenger jet crossed with an X-Wing space fighter, thought the V shaped tail-plane belonged to neither. The fuselage had started as three super wide 'gallon' Coo Coo cola bottles, the same height as a regular two litre thermoplastic bottle, but half again the diameter. They had been cut down to cylinders and bonded together to form the basis of a monocoque hull, with top ends left on to form a nose cone, and a tapering stern.

Lined with epoxy bonded aluminium sheet from soda cans on the non-transparent sections, and reinforced with an extra layer of bottle material, the fuselage was almost 3 feet long. Mid way along were two more cola bottle top sections, fused on and mounted crosswise to form wing roots. The engines and wings were mounted on them, the wings able to sweep back and even change pitch for attitude control. Each pair of engines were mounted on their own bearing, one above and one below the wing root. This meant the pair was able to rotate around the wing root for horizontal, vertical, or even reverse thrust (with air deflectors open).

The spout at the front was still functioning, but now as a fuel intake. Foxglove had just finished screwing on the cap as Dale hauled away the hose connected to the tanker. A few drops of JP5 dripped from it, and the external microphone caught Foxglove admonishing Dale. "Cutie, be careful!"

Dale slotted the hose into place next to the fish tank pump that supplied it. "Aww Foxy, I'll be good, no fuelling around."

Gadget shook her head, switched off the external microphone, pressed a button, and a nose section, moulded from a detergent bottle, hinged up over it to form an aerodynamic wedge over the bottle cap. A telltale on her panel went out as Dale and Foxglove came pelting up the steps. The bat stopped at the back of the passenger cabin, "Oh my, I still can't get over how nice it all looks."

"It sure is, Foxy!" said Dale. "I gotta hand it to you Gadget, you sure can make 'em." Although they'd seen most of it before, this was their first time inside the completed passenger cabin. For someone accustomed to the previous Ranger vehicles, it was certainly more luxurious. The passenger cabin took up the front third of the craft. A deck had been put in, cutting off the lower two fifths of the bottle's curve. Under it were electronics, batteries and fuel tanks. At the nose were twin pilots positions, based on the Rangerwing, and back of them four cushioned double seats arranged in pairs along a central aisle.

The seats were covered in crushed felt, with plenty of leg room, and seatbelts. Behind the last pair of seats, steps were recessed into the deck on each side, continuing down a section of hull that had folded out. Right at the back were two closed off, opaqued compartments, a washroom and a head. The floor and seats were upholstered in dark velvet, and shielded white LEDs, mounted on seat backs, acted as reading lights while small green ones marked out the central aisle.

Dale and Foxy plumped down together on one of the wide seats and snuggled. Foxy made sure Dale's seatbelt was on, and then did hers as the red nosed chipmunk called out, "Okay, Gadget, we're in! Chocks away… or whatever!"

"In a minute, Dale!" Gadget called back. She flipped one phone screen to a schematic of the aircraft. Behind the passenger cabin, accessible by an improved version of her sardine tin airlock, was the engineering compartment. Here were the fuel pumps (salvaged fish tank pumps), wing motion actuators (various toy electric motors) and compressor (a computer chip cooling module) were. Flexible pipes and wiring lead out through the holes in the centre of the wing roots to the wings and engines. Everything seemed to be working fine. She flipped a switch to close the passenger door, and checked the cargo bay door telltale. That massive space, taking up the rear half of the plane, had a winch that could be run out for loading, and more fuel tanks under it's deck. Right now it was empty and the fold up cargo door at the back was sealed.

She checked back on her passengers, who seemed eager for her to start. The choice of passengers was not accidental. If some unforeseen accident did occur, the three on the Screaming Eagle could bail out, Gadget with her parachute, and Dale with his replacement glider. The one he'd used in the assault on 'Hangar B-25' had had an unfortunate accident involving a reversing Gyrotank after Dale had left it to save Foxglove.

The new one used some space age materials they'd salvaged from the Space base junkyard. The struts were made of left over electro-mimetic actuator material and the fabric was ultra-strong and light. It folded into a compact mass that made a slim backpack for Dale, but could unfold at the touch of a contact to form a sweeping pair of batwings, controlled by bodyweight and double paw-grips. Gadget had put it together while taking a rest from the main design problems, of which there had been plenty.

Now she adjusted her headset, made from the disposable button earphones handed out on human airlines. "Screaming Eagle II, ready for takeoff!"

"Roger.", She heard Chip reply. "Be careful, Gadget!", he added unnecessarily, then "Over." He'd read up on proper radio procedure after the Donutters incident.

"Golly Chip, of course I will. This has to be the most thoroughly tested, safest invention I ever made. Over."

"Understood. We'll follow you and record. Over." He, Monty and Zipper were already in the rebuilt Rangerwing X (for experimental). This had acted as a test bed for many of the systems in the Screaming Eagle II, primarily the new engines. Gadget's genius had developed a hybrid turbofan of incredible simplicity and fuel efficiency, including an exhaust section formed out of a layer of thermoelectric material, courtesy of a decommissioned space probe. As she always said, it was amazing what you could find in people's garbage. This generated electricity from the temperature difference of the waste heat of the exhaust, and the airflow past the exterior of the engines. Most of the internal parts were made from machined sections of titanium cookware, and computer cooling fans, but the outside shell was a Coo Coo Cola soda can (painted over, of course).

"Starting up. Out." She flipped more switches and the mobile phone displays changed, showing a rear view and core flight data, especially the engine status. A GPS readout also appeared. Finding a working PDA (needing only a new screen) and the matchbox sized GPS module that had been designed to work with it was one of the luckiest finds of their scrap yard challenge. Stripped of useless casing, and reprogrammed, it formed the basis of the Screaming Eagle's avionics.

Building the new craft had been the hardest five weeks of work the Rescue Rangers had ever done. Gadget's designs were generally inspired by the materials available, and adapted to fit them, but with this project she had turned things around. Even while the clean-up of the Ratz occupation had been going on, she had been working on the plans for the new Screaming Eagle, more aptly named than it's predecessor, because it was based around her jet engine design.

cue the montage, with a the Rescue Ranger theme playing in march time in the background, a la A Team, or McGuyver

The first couple of weeks involved a scavenger hunt of massive proportions as the Rangerplane and Rangermobile went all over the state. They hunted through the airport, army surplus mothballing heaps, the Coo Coo Cola warehouse, and Stanislavsky's electronics graveyard. They even made a long trip down to the Cape to salvage from the Space centre junkyard, towing their finds back on a separate cargo balloon behind the Rangerplane.

During the latter half, the Rangerwing was unavailable for these duties, because it was receiving a major overhaul. The flashlight that made up the nosecone and a considerable part of the power source was stripped out, as was the grappler arm that was stored in a compartment further back. It was replaced by a test type soda can jet engine, and lithium power cells, courtesy of old mobile phones. A ring of super-bright white LEDs from Christmas decorations were mounted in a ring around the air intake, providing almost as much searchlight capability as the old flashlight for far less weight, space and power.

The old motors, with their carefully crafted popsicle propellers were replaced by much more powerful ducted fans in stripped down casings. These were originally power supply cooling fans from a Crayfish 12000 supercomputer. These could alter position like the originals, but since they pivoted along the plane of the fan they could move between full reverse and full forward thrust, or hover without the tricky timing of reversing props. Despite the fact that it's weight increased by a third, the new Rangerwing was just as manoeuvrable, and could make a top speed of almost 210 miles per hour for about 3 hours on jet, and on the fans a good 120 miles per hour for another hour and 20 minutes.

The Rangerwing's cockpit also got something of an overhaul. It was extended to three rows of wide double seats, of which the rear four would fold down into the leg spaces to form a flat load bed for cargo. A fold-back bubble canopy, formed from a section of cola bottle, allowed the Rangerwing to make the most of its new-found speed without blowing the occupants away.

While the basic controls were unchanged, OLED mobile phone screens provided flight data and camera views from various points on the fuselage, due to a number of micro cameras from the same phones. A short-wave transceiver was added, along with a sonar altimeter/ground speed detector. It only worked within fifty feet of the ground, but made precision landings far easier. A stack of removable memory cards stored images from the cameras, among other things. After much urging from both Dale and Foxglove, this included music from Foxglove's collection.

The extra power allowed more sophisticated landing gear to be added. The cigar tube pontoons became the 'forelegs' of stork type landing gear, as long proven on the Rangerplane. The 'ankles' could deploy plunger harpoons, like the Rangerplane's, or grappler style hands, controlled from the co-pilots position. Hard points on the tops of the forelegs could mount mission specific add-ons, such as water pistols, gumball launchers, or firework booster rockets. The rear compartment that was freed up now played host to a flare launcher (survival matches with mini-parachutes) and a mechanically triggered triplet of emergency chutes that were big enough to soft land the whole plane in the event of a total power failure.

Since almost all of this was based on existing developments, the work went fairly quickly, The jet engine required the most testing and development, including ground tests. A catering tin was fitted with a sardine can airlock, and inside the first test model run at varying intensities for tens of hours, up to and above it's design thrust. However it hadn't been designed for roasting marshmallows, as Dale found out to his chagrin. He went in to the testing bay with a marshmallow on a cocktail stick, and staggered out with a blackened face and holding a charred and smoking stub.

With the systems tested in the Rangerwing X, it was time to apply the knowledge gained to the construction of the new Screaming Eagle. Though Gadget had occasionally built bigger projects in far less time, there was a world of difference between it and the one-shot, minimum function orbiter, or the composite of existing machines that was the Gyrotank. The Screaming Eagle was built from scratch to work first time, reliably, and for the long haul.

With her acting as designer, engineer, skilled workman and systems integrator she needed all the help she could get. While Chip was not an engineer, he managed to understand most of her plans, at least in outline. An excellent organiser, he helped plan their activities, squeezing every last minute out of the weeks they had while keeping people from overwork. During the collection phase it fell to Chip and Monty to do the flying and driving, while Dale, Foxglove and Zipper scouted out parts.

When construction was in full swing everyone did lifting and shifting. Foxglove could move smaller pieces into place where an overhead crane would have been necessary, and Zipper proved most adept at guiding wires and tubing through cable runs. Gadget, with her Construction suit, and Monty with nothing more than his own great strength moved the heaviest parts into place. Chip and Dale were everywhere else, fitting and fixing and painting and gluing.

Now, with over a week to go, it was ready. All the systems had been tested out on the ground, and it's gliding properties when un-fuelled had been tested with the aid of the launch ramp and a dynamite booster system, but this would be the maiden voyage. The hull had been painted with some formulation of Gadget's to improve it's insulation and protect against ultraviolet. The paint for the opaque parts also had an additive that gave it the same warm orange colour as the original. Foxy, at the last minute contributed some decals she'd run up during a couple of sleepless nights at the City University Media Studies lab. Rather than the Rescue Ranger logo, the wings and tail showed a stylised eagle, wings raised as it gave a hunting cry, and carrying a crossed hacksaw and wrench in it's claws.

End montage and BGM

Gadget checked the instruments one more time, set the engines to vertical thrust, and ramped up the power. Outside, the engines rotated around to vertical, and a low whine built up as computer fans drew air in, and the air beneath the exhausts started to shimmer with heat. Slowly, the meter long vessel rose up into the air on four pillars of flame, wings extended for maximum lift when she changed mode.

The wings looked like they'd come off a wind turbine, each a tapered narrow blade two thirds the length of the fuselage. Moulded from thermoplastics, using a modified industrial width toaster junked from the airport kitchens, they were optimally designed for the Screaming Eagle, rather than being the constructs of wood and fabric that her previous aircraft had. They also owed considerable ancestry to the Rangerplane, being able to swing back until almost flush with the hull, and tilt independently or in concert to act as control surfaces. Sections could extend from the trailing edges, increasing the chord (front to back width) of the wings and acting as flaps or spoilers as the need arose. Combined with the control surfaces on the V tail fins, and you had a craft that could turn on a dime and give change, for all it's large relative size.

The ground and the bomber dropped away with a muted rumble, mostly because Gadget had the foresight to rig the cabin with noise cancelling speakers made from earphones, which could act as a cabin PA at need. However they didn't stop Dale's 'Yahooo!', or Foxglove's squeak of surprise.

Monty's voice came over the radio. "Strike me starkers, Gadget-luv, the Eagle took off smooth as a wallaby's washboard."

Gadget was familiar with most of Monty's expressions, but this was a new one. "Huh? How smooth is that?" she asked as she reduced the thrust to hover.

She could almost hear the big Australian mouse grin in the co-pilot's seat on the Rangerwing X. "Very smooth indeed lass, after all yer average wallaby doesn't wear many clothes."

"Hmmm… I dunno, it could be smooth from constant usage, which would imply a wallaby has a lot of clothes, or gets through them quickly. Making the mode change to horizontal flight. Over." She thought she heard an Australian sigh over the headset.

She glanced at the rear view screen and saw the Rangerwing had lifted on it's fans and was above and behind her. Chip's voice replied. "Roger, we're with you all the way. Over."

The landing gear was retracting into the conformal gear pods, each a hemi-section of a half litre plastic soda bottle that had gotten the Gadget treatment. Bonded directly to the fuselage, when sealed they would act as pontoons, however they could at need split open and deploy landing legs as versatile as the improved Rangerwing's. While there were no grappler claws, the stork-like gear had the same bulging forelegs. The 'ankles' could deploy plunger harpoons, or magnetic clamps based on the magno-ray, while the forearms could extrude skis, or powered caterpillar tracks, even ice anchors. There would be no repeat of a Glacier Bay type crash.

Considering the same control mechanisms used in the Rangerwing had simply been modified for the new engine layout, it was unsurprising but pleasing that the change from hover to forward flight went off without a hitch. The Eagle accelerated forwards until it was moving at a leisurely 45 miles an hour, according to the sonar ground speed indicator. Gadget pulled back on the stick (well the bottle cap, but it was the same thing) and gained height, enjoying the feel of the new aircraft. When the sonar altimeter went out of range, the barometric one took over without a hitch, and so did the GPS derived ground speed readout.

When she'd reached 1000 feet, she called over the radio. "Alright, I'm going to open her up and see what she'll do!" She rammed the thrust levers right up to their stops, and the plane shot forward, airspeed meter climbing. As it passed above 120 mph an alarm light went on, telling her to swing back the wings, as it was supposed to. She quickly complied. The rear view screen still showed the Rangerwing, dogging her tail about 50 yards back. A press on a button and the digital zoom kicked in. Suddenly she could see Chip and Monty clearly through the transparent canopy, even a hovering mote that must be Zipper.

The airspeed indicator had peaked at 254 miles per hour, equivalent to over 3000 miles per hour (around Mach 4) if it were a human aircraft. The Rangerwing was dropping back rapidly, it's single jet and heavier body unable to keep pace with the lightly loaded transport. Even at 1000 feet, the ground was moving rapidly. It looked a lot closer, because she just wasn't used to these speeds. Her flight path had taken her back towards the city, almost over their park. She'd just chosen that direction because it avoided any human flight paths. Her design gave theoretical figures of a top speed of 240 mph, and a flight time on full tanks of 6 hours, 9 if she outfitted the cargo bay with an auxiliary 1.5 litre soda bottle tank. So far it was exceeding her expectations.

She eased back a bit, to let Chip and the others catch up, and started dancing. She'd never really learned how to do it on her own hind paws, but doing it an aeroplane was an excellent way to test it out. She dived, and barrel rolled, loop de looped and made Immelmann turns, finding the best combinations of jet power and wing position. Any human aircraft designer would have said a transport aircraft should not be able to do acrobatics, but then they couldn't even get the full potential energy out of hydrocarbon fuels, so what did they know?

So Gadget dipped and soared and generally bent the rules of physics into interesting shapes in the sky. If engineering was her religion, then this was a sacrament, and one she truly enjoyed, the pushing of a test vehicle to so near the edge of the envelope you could taste the gumming. She'd never told anyone this, but the flight to Glacier bay had been her first 'solo' flight, even with Monty in the co-pilot's seat. However a couple of years of flying home-built aircraft in the toughest conditions had refined and tempered raw talent until she really was as good as she'd pretended to be back then.

She still remembered how depressed she'd been after that first flight, ruining her dad's plane in the process of almost getting them all killed. Come to think of it, Chip had been the one to turn her around, saying they needed an inventor, not a flyer. That might also have been the first time she'd seen something special about him. She smiled at the thought. 'You wanted an inventor, not a pilot, and thanks to your encouragement you got both. Most efficient.' Her communion with her memories was interrupted by the radio, the voice of the chipmunk in question.

"Rangerwing calling. Sorry, Gadget, we just couldn't keep up. We backed off and got some long distance footage, but now we're over the City Natural History Museum, on the edge of the park, and there seems to be a lot of police activity. We're going to have to land and check it out. Over."

"Oh, you don't need to do that, Chip. Press the button marked 'PB', and you'll be able to receive the police band. You can even select separate functions on your and Monty's headsets, using panel 2a. After all the Rangerwing will be used for Ranger work. Over."

"That's great Gadget, but why didn't you tell me? Over."

"It was going to be a surprise. Over."

"That it is, and a very nice one. We'll call back as soon as we have something. Out."

Gadget turned her plane's nose away from the open skies, and back towards the park.

Dale's voice came from the back. "Hey Gadget, is something wrong? You were doin' some great acrobatics, better n' any roller coaster!" There was enthusiastic agreement from Foxglove. This was another reason they'd been allowed to come, Dale of the cast iron stomach, and Foxglove, to whom negative gees were restful.

Gadget switched on the cabin speakers and cut them over to her headset. "Maybe, Chip thinks there's something that needs investigating at the museum. I'll switch you in the on the cabin speakers when he calls back, well actually I've already switched in the cabin speakers, otherwise you wouldn't be hearing me over them… scratch that. You can listen in on the radio over the cabin speakers." She examined that sentence for ambiguities and found none, giving a pleased little nod.

Moments later Chip's voice was back. "It's worse than I'd thought. Someone's stolen the Devil's Eye. It was on loan from the Smithsonian. I'd thought about setting up a watch, but the police were putting a special detachment on it, and everybody had been working so hard…" Monty's voice murmured, "Monty's stayed on the police band, seems a couple of people have spotted a radio controlled car leaving, carrying something. Over."

Gadget pondered as she flew. "Radio control? You might be able to track it. Over."

"We can do that?… Over."

"Golly, yes. It's only a loop direction finder that was originally so the planes could locate each other, since I couldn't build a small enough radar, but if you switch the mode to DF and the frequency to 27 MHz, then sweep until you hear a stuttering hum, that'll be the controller signal. You should be able to circle and home in when the signal is strongest. Then follow that until you find the controller. I'll home in on you. Over."

"Roger that. Switching to Direction Finder, Out."

Gadget switched over her own radio to Direction Finder, and an arrow popped up on the screen on her side. The circuits weren't that different from the ones she'd built into the orbiter, to track the space suit, but they were looped round the whole body and aimed by turning the plane. The display was also much more sophisticated. She quickly picked up the Rangerwing's signature, and headed towards it. It was only moments before she flew up on their starboard side, dropping the jet output to the minimum for station keeping.

The Rangerwing was hovering on it's fans high over a set of alleyways not too far from the Museum. It was facing away from the sun and into the wind, which gave her a moments thought until she realised that if the opponent was ahead, the engine sounds would be carried away from them by the wind, and they were not likely to look into the sun, or near it. Monty waved through the canopy, and tapped on his headset. Well, that was clear enough. She switched back to normal radio.

"… come in? Gadget-luv, are you listening?"

"Right here, Monty. So we've found the culprit? Over."

She heard the big mouse's snort of disgust. "Too roight! It's Fat Cat, that crook has the diamond in his scruffy paws… Over."

Chip added his own two cents. "Yeah, he's directly in front of us, about 40 degrees below horizon. Over."

She dipped the nose, tilting the engines to keep them vertical, and used the forward camera on maximum magnification to enlarge the figures in the nearby alley. It was Fat Cat, alright, and his cronies. They'd set up some stuff, it might be electronics and a comfy chair, converted from some toy pram, under an awning, and there was a radio controlled car with some extra equipment on top, she couldn't tell what without getting closer. Most importantly, Fat Cat was holding something tightly that glinted in the bright winter sunlight. Since she was hovering she called the others forward to look at the screen.

Over in the Rangerwing, Chip was thinking, toying with his headset. Unlike the two mice, who could use stereo headbands, the positioning of a chipmunk ear meant an over the ear mono-phone headset with a rearward facing speaker was needed. "We'll go in as a distraction, then Gadget can pluck that diamond. She's faster, and has a bigger payload. But we need an effective distraction. He's holding it too close to grab it."

Zipper buzzed on Monty's shoulder, and the big mouse responded. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to giving that overstuffed crook a roight good seeing to, but all we can do is buzz him, or go in on the ground."

Dale called from the Screaming Eagle, using the co-pilot headset mike. "C'mon we want a shot too! Land us first and Foxy and me'll get him so mad he won't even remember he had that ol' diamond."

Chip chuckled. "He is kind of hot headed where we're concerned. But do we have the time…? Hot headed, that's it! Gadget, be ready to dive on my mark. Over."

Her voice replied. "Ready. Over."

"Croikey, Chipper, what've ya got planned?"

Chip grinned. "We're just going to give Fat Cat a very warm reception, that's all."

&

Unaware of the conference going on overhead, the feline felon was indulging in one of his favourite past times, to whit, talking. He had the gem, which was as almost as big as his head tightly between his forepaws. Even so, what sun light reached it reflected back to create polychromatic facets of light within the alley.

"Look at it, my moronic minions! A perfect gem, filled with power for it's owner."

"It sure is purty." said Mole, squinting, slightly more dazed than usual by the shifting light.

"Yeah, boss. What're ya goin' ta do with it? Sell it? Cut it up?" Wart asked eagerly.

Fat Cat turned on the luckless lizard, claws snapping out. "Cut it up? Did I hear you correctly?"

His minion cowered back. "Sorry, boss, I was just thinking…"

"Well don't! You haven't got the right equipment for it anyway." This last was delivered in his smuggest tones. "This will stay with me, a tribute to my criminal genius. My plan was even more brilliant than this gem! I knew they would put endless security systems around the display, so I evaded them by putting the carrier vehicle inside the stand!" He acted as if this was a solo job, rather than several nights of nervous work in the Museum workshop by his goons.

"But boss, won't someone track us?", Mepps asked.

The pontificating pussy preened as he pooh poohed the possibility. "The humans will be their usual bumbling selves, and as for those Ridiculous Rangers, they will find nothing to connect me with this days work. The radio controlled car was taken from a rich brat's toy cupboard, and replaced with a similar model from the junk heap. The wireless camera and batteries were thrown out after we encouraged them to malfunction, and the robot arm is from a junked Mealo-matic. There were no noticeable thefts in advance to give them clues, and we made very sure that nothing was left inside the podium. This is my greatest criminal achievement, the burning torch I steal from the gods…"

Mole sniffed. "Gee boss, I can even smell it…"

A still lit survival match dropped from the sky on a parachute, landing right on Fat Cat's carefully combed head fur, followed by another. There was a second of incomprehension, followed by several seconds of panic. As the cat crime boss danced around, trying to extinguish his head, he was no longer holding the diamond close to him, and he dropped it on a convenient crate to free his paw for beating out the flames.

Gadget had been watching for just such an opportunity. She switched to the cameras on the ankles of the landing gear, and targeting reticules had overlaid themselves on the images on the screens. She set the trigger to proximity, and tuned in the forward facing laser range-finder (novelty laser pens had many uses). She carefully manoeuvred to put the reticules right over the gem, and plunged like her aircraft's namesake, keeping the target in place with microscopic movements of her forepaws on the bottle-cap yoke.

At the set proximity the plungers launched, trailing cables. To the poor goons there was a flashing instant of movement as an orange shape swept in and soared back into the sky, carrying the gem on two rapidly reeling in plungers. Since the jets were going full as the plane fought to climb, the entire area was swept with an exhaust plume. It blew out the flame, but left Fat Cat and all his cronies standing there, with blinking white eyes in blackened faces and hairstyles that were variations on a theme of 'extreme windswept after staring down a volcano'.

&

Kirby and Muldoon were sitting in their patrol car just outside the museum. Detectives were already going over the place with fine tooth combs, and they'd been assigned to help clear out the crowd that had come to the special showing of the 'world's largest diamond'.

"I heard someone found a secret compartment in the podium. Looks like they used that toy car to carry the diamond right away." Kirby claimed as he looked out of his open window at the museum.

Muldoon dunked one of his donuts in the carton of cheese chowder from Ma's. "Sounds like a buncha real professionals. They musta been planning the heist for months."

"Yeah. The chief is goin' to go nuts about this. Sounds like every cop in the city will be hunting for it."

Muldoon shrugged. "Well what can we do about it? It's not like the thing is gonna drop into our laps…"

Suddenly something flew in Kirby's open window, as a shadow and a whistling noise passed over the cars windshield. It bounced off Kirby's knee and flipped into the carton of cheese chowder, splattering it all over Muldoon. He looked down, and realised he now had the most expensive cheese chowder in history.

Muldoon, after a few seconds of deep though then said, "Uhhh… I could be wrong about that..."

&

There was general jubilation in the cockpits of both aircraft. It was open mike and speakers between the two of them. Dale and Foxy were joining in on the other pilot headset.

"That has got to be one of the fastest solved cases in history!" exclaimed Chip.

"Too roight! Didya see the look on Fat Cats face when Gadget toasted his topknot?"

Chip chuckled. "See it? I was recording it! And it's all thanks to Gadget's latest and greatest creations."

In the other plane the mouse inventor blushed. "Golly guys, I wouldn't go that far. However it did turn into a pretty successful test flight."

"You can say that again lass!" "Zyeah!"

Gadget frowned, her usual literal-mindedness taking over. "Why, are you having problems receiving me? I read you five by five."

"No, we're reading you loud and clear." Chip said lightly.

Dale chuckled. "He won't have a burning desire to steal anything for some time, I bettcha."

Foxy giggled. "Well at least he had his fifteen seconds of flame."

Chip groaned, as did the others. "Oh, no, now it's in stereo!" He quipped. "Dale, you've corrupted that poor bat. Now we go back, get packed for the trip, and tomorrow we go. Next stop Japan!"

Gadget's voice was clear over the speakers. "Actually our next stop will most likely be Bangor International Airport, not counting returning to my place today. And we'll need to ferry stuff from the tree house… and the WAAT isn't actually being held in Japan proper, but on one of the minor Ryu-kyu islands, not far from Okinawa. So it would be more accurate to say, 'one of our intermediate stops, Japan', thought I don't see why you would."

Chip shook his head, but he was still smiling. "As you say Gadget, as you say."

&

Note: To handle linguistic problems, or rather the lack of them, I'm following a convention I set up in one of my other fanfics. Since all animals can understand each other, regardless of language, where they speak some non-English word, the actual word is followed by it's meaning in square brackets, e.g. Konbanwa Good evening

A map of the world, showing their travel with a big red line in true Louisiana James style, would show them travelling steadily east. City Airport to Bangor International, then on to London Heathrow piggybacking on a British Airways passenger jet. After some consideration, Gadget had decided not to trust their planes to the uncertain mercies of the North Atlantic jet-stream. A nights stopover on England's green and pleasant landing fields, then short flight across London to Gatwick, and a piggyback on a JAL flight carried them across the great continent of Asia, and to a landing at Narita Tokyo.

Once again they rested and refuelled both planes, with the help of some exquisitely courteous Japanese mice who lived at the airport, and then it was on to Okinawa and the Ryu-kyu islands. It was still approaching a sunny mid-day as the Screaming Eagle II, with the Rangerwing X flying in echelon, swept over the coast of the deserted island that was their destination. Dale was on the window side of his double seat, nose plastered against the transparent hull.

"Zowie, a desert island. Maybe we can find some more pirate treasure while we're here."

Chip's voice came over the radio. "This is the place? I don't see any activity. Over"

"Golly Chip, It's got to be. It matches the co-ordinates and course set in the notes I received. Over."

"Well I hope they said something about where to land, I've got more than enough fuel to get back to Okinawa, but we can't afford more than an hour of scouting. Over." The Rangerwing, with its shorter range, set the limits on their movement.

"The notes said we'd be met… There!" Out in front a swallow, wearing a yellow forage cap, flew up and in front, paralleling their courses but side-slipping in. Even though it was clearly pumping its wings as hard as possible, the planes were rapidly overtaking it.

"Throttle back Monterey, setting wings for low speed manoeuvring." Gadget rapped out, suddenly all business.

"Roight Gadget." The big mouse replied, and as he big manipulated their controls, Chip's voice was heard from the Rangerwing. "Switching to fans, jet shutting down." He and Monty had been alternating between the co-pilot's seat on the Eagle, and the upgraded Rangerwing.

The streams of rippling air from the Screaming Eagle's engines diminished as the wings swung out to their maximum extent and flaps extended from the trailing edges. Meanwhile the Rangerwing's fan motors, held flat with the surface of it's wings, rotated perpendicular. They started to spin in the high speed air-stream, and then with more authority as Chip applied power. The jet exhaust from the underside of the Rangerwing ceased, but the slowing of the larger plane allowed it to come alongside and fly wing and wing.

All eyes were now on the bird, which was flying more easily and more closely as the planes slowed down. With it's claws it pulled a large piece of pasteboard from a satchel slung underneath it. On it was the writing "Follow me" underneath a group of kanji that meant the same thing, according to Foxglove. The pasteboard was rotated so the other side could be seen, "Radio. F.M. 56.2 MHz."

Chip's voice was puzzled. "Why didn't they add that in the notes…"

"Maybe they weren't sure what frequencies they'd have available. Anyway, switching over. Over."

As she reached to turn the tuning knob Gadget heard Chip quipping, "Ladies first. Out."

"This is the Screaming Eagle II, this is the Screaming Eagle II, WAAT registration 1, transmitting on fiver six point two. Please respond."

After a moment, a response came back in Japanese accented mousese. "This is Tomodachi Island tower. Welcome to Toodachi Island. Please follow your guide in a holding pattern and classify aircraft for landing requirements. Over."

"Four engine VTOL jet of three foot length, four foot overall wingspan. Over."

"Confirm, Screaming Eagle? A four engine jet aircraft with VTOL capabilities?" There was a hint of surprise in the carefully calm radio operators voice.

"Confirm Tomodachi tower. Flying escort is the Rangerwing X, a ducted fan tilt-rotor aircraft, also VTOL, and on this channel. Over."

"Tomodachi tower calling Rangerwing X, confirm your presence. Over."

"Right here Tomodachi tower. Rangerwing X also under WAAT registration 1, and awaiting landing instructions. Over."

"Runway is clear, wind from north north-east. Follow guide to runway and make visual approach and landing at pilots discretion. You are assigned bays 162 and 163. We look forward to seeing you both. Tomodachi Island tower, Out."

"Wow, Gadget, you're already number one!" exclaimed Dale after she'd signed off.

"It's no big thing. The winner of the Unlimited Air Race automatically gets a free membership in the next Air Trials. So my membership number would almost have to be low."

A firework rose up ahead and to one side. The swallow immediately veered towards it. They passed over the lip of a ridge and laid out below was a sight that made them all gasp. A small wartime airfield, presumably left over from the Pacific war, and now buzzing with activity, but not human activity. The whole place had been rebuilt on a scale designed for much smaller creatures.

It was a single runway built for human propeller driven fighters, and therefore quite adequate to take even the largest small animal vehicle. A marshalling yard and sheet metal hangars and office buildings lay off to the side and at the far end as they came in over the field. In the sky overhead were several weather and promotional balloons, most with large open observation decks underneath. Tupperware boxes fitted out as cable car like elevators trundled up and down their tethers like beads on a wire, and from a few balloons hung large blue banners with the WAAT symbol of a winged spanner emblazoned in yellow.

The marshalling yard had become a giant plaza, with stalls and what looked like a wide stand at one end, supporting a projector screen against the wall of an office. Banners hung from the hangar entrances, proclaiming in several languages their new use as convention halls. A row of aircraft propellers were held high above the base on a radio tower pylon, catching the wind and generating power for the place. One bunkhouse was apparently the roost of those natural fliers who were attending from the way the windows had been rebuilt, and the number of winged creatures flitting in and out.

Finally there was the runway itself, cleaned up and repainted. Along one side of it the paving was divided by white lines, about four feet apart, each numbered in neat Arabic numerals, and in many of them were parked small animal scale aircraft of practically every kind, hundreds in total. Many were rebuilt human toys, and there were a number of dirigible balloons. And everywhere there were animals, a dozen species all mingling without fuss or bother.

Foxglove was the first to speak. "Oh my goodness… I had no idea…"

"You said it Foxy! This place is amaaaazing."

Monty was gazing down at the scene below. "Crikey, this has got to be bigger than any of the others I went to! It looks like every creature that ever flew so much as a paper aeroplane is here."

Gadget was just sitting there, a beatific smile illuminating her face. She was here, and so were her friends, and the plane that was going to win the endurance race, and honour her father's memory. She brought herself out of her reverie, just as Chip's voice came over the headset.

"I can see 162, I'm taking the Rangerwing straight down. Over."

She quickly mastered herself. "Roger that, Chip. We'll come around and land conventionally. We are rather heavily loaded. Over."

She brought the Screaming Eagle round and circled to land into the wind, which fortunately almost in line with the runway. She dropped tractor gear, as they'd have to move about once down. The relatively big, sleek aircraft drew more than one impressed or envious gaze as it made a textbook landing, several of which turned to surprise when the jet engines swivelled through 180 degrees to slow it down. As they came to a halt, the swallow who had led them there dipped down, wagged his wings, and sped off to his next patrol.

Gadget pulled off her helmet. "Well guys, we're here at last… Now you get to see what all the fuss is about."

****

Station break – If you want the full effect, go get a tropical fruit juice.

Their spaces were about half way along the runway. A fancy looking dirigible, a quarter again longer than the Screaming Eagle, was moored in the next space over, next to a cluster of handkerchief tents. On the other side towered a two litre bottle, north side covered with aluminium foil, and three quarters full of water. Spigots of various sizes stuck out around the base. At the back edge of the parking spaces, vehicles moved back and forth, the most common type being an unmanned buggy covered with a flat topped plastic cover and a low inch wide rim. They appeared at minute intervals, going both ways, and following a painted track. They moved at little better than walking pace, and passengers just stepped up onto the flat rim as it passed, putting anything heavy they were carrying on the centre.

When the rest of the Rangers got out of the Screaming Eagle, they found Chip chatting amiably with a tanuki three times his size, who was wearing a white helmet with a green cross and carrying a clipboard. This worthy introduced himself as Tamaburo, one of the WAAT officials. He was suitably admiring of the two aircraft, but quickly got down to business.

Looking at Gadget he said,. "Konichiwa Good day. Am I addressing 'Gadgeto Hakuwrenchu'?"

Gadget smiled, pleasantly. "That's me, well sort of."

"I am most pleased to meet you, Hakuwrenchu-san. Your father was a legendary pilot, and I wish you every success in his place."

Saying nice things about her farther was an easy way to get on Gadget's good side, or considering her natural friendliness, her better side. He quickly took her through formalities of registration, and gave them time tables and entrance forms for the important events.

He finished off with a few warnings. "Forgive me for saying these things, as I'm sure it will not apply to your party. The entire convention is under a truce. Creatures who try to harm another member will be invited to leave. Entering another teams area uninvited is also prohibited. And of course everybody is expected to help keep the place tidy and orderly. After all, we have to make everything vanish after the trials are over. Other than that, feel free to explore and mingle to your hearts content." He made sure there were no questions, then said with a smirk, "Well, I've got to fly."

He pulled a leaf inscribed with ornate kanji from under his helmet, laid it on top, and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Out of it came a swift, still wearing the same or a similar white helmet. "See you all soon." it said in Tamaburo's voice as it darted off. Foxglove was the only one of the team not to show surprise at this, just glee.

Dale was the first to speak. "Wowie Zowie! How'd he do that?" He was echoed by the rest of the Ranger crew.

Foxglove smiled. "Well, according to all the stories, tanuki are shape-shifters, using oak leaves to amplify their transformation powers. I never thought I'd ever actually see it though."

Gadget was shaken. "But… my gosh, the change in mass… it's not like he had a metamorphasiser or anything. How could you take it so calmly?"

Foxglove giggled. "One, I've watched the lots of anime, and two, remember, I did work for a real live witch. Win… Freddie," she suddenly emphasised, "… may have been fairly inept, but she could do simple transformations, even without the moon rock."

Dale grimaced. "Ugh… I don't need reminding of that. Being a frog is no fun. I nearly croaked." That got him a hug from the bat and a groan from everyone else.

Setting up of the camp was quick enough, especially with the Screaming Eagle's winch, and the trolley made from construction kit pieces that Gadget had packed. Two baseball cap pavilions, one for guys, one for girls, a fireplace and a smaller version of the fuel tanker and pump made from a 1 litre bottle, and a spare fish tank pump. There was also a small wind turbine made from one of the Rangerwing's old rotors that provided electric power for the camp. Then there were the week's worth of supplies they'd brought to be stowed, and everything else they'd brought. Having ample cargo space, even with the fuel tanker on board the Eagle, Chip had gone for the 'better to have it and not need it' approach to packing.

As they finished up, they noticed an elderly mouse in a lab coat and spectacles, waiting just beyond the boundary between their site and the one containing the dirigible. The lab-coated mouse was looking at the Rangerwing with a speculative air, and gave a slight start when Monty addressed him.

"Don't stand on ceremony mate! C'mon over."

He came into the Rangers camp, and bowed politely. "Thank you for inviting me. I am Professor Chinou Dai, of the Nekomi Institute of Technology." He indicated behind him. "I am here with a group of my under-the-floor graduates to demonstrate our new dirigible, the Golden Carp."

Chip made the introductions for the Rangers. The professor clearly recognised Gadget's name, and when Chip had finished asked, "By any chance, are you the Gadget Hackwrench who published 'Multi-axis variable pitch aerodynamic surfaces in a propulsive flight modes'?"

Gadget nodded, looking slightly puzzled. "Oh, that old thing… Well yes, I figured a couple of people might be interested in using it in ornithopter designs, so I fixed up my notes on the Rangerplane and sent it off to Scientific Rodentia."

"Most impressive work, almost as well received as 'Torque amplification in permanent magnet motors'. That caused the biggest stir in the engineering community since the left handed framwinkle."

Gadget blushed. "Golly, that idea was simple enough. I never got the following months copy of Mouse Mechanics Monthly, so I never got any feedback. I figured it hadn't been published."

The professor looked aghast. "But it's created a whole new generation of small animal aircraft. I suspect three quarters of the vehicles here use some variation of your modifications…"

There was a deep hum over head, as a shadow covered the group. "… like that supply ship."

Looking up, the Rangers saw a blocky shadow move away from the sun, and come in for a vertical landing to the side of one of the hangar buildings. It was based around a navy blue plastic swing-top bin, top facing forward, with an inverted tupperware box as a flying bridge, and twin tail rudders on spars. Two long tapered wings were swung back against the top. On each side a pair of downward facing desk top fans stirred up dust on the asphalt below, as they gently lowered the craft to earth. The WAAT logo stood proudly on each tail-fin. As they watched, the swing top front pivoted open, and a number of model fork lifts, and a couple of toy robots moved in to unload the cargo.

There were several exclamations of amazement from the various Rangers.

Gadget's eyes were sparkly. "Golly and a half, I had no idea they'd take it that far… but how did they make the wings? They looked like solid units."

The professor answered. "Coated polystyrene. From what I heard, they subcontracted to an Australian group, who cut down and sanded discarded surfboards into shape, then recoated them."

There was a rumbling from Monty, or rather his stomach. He stirred uneasily. "I don't want to interrupt yer discussion, but we haven't had lunch yet, and there's some breadcrumb coated cheese balls back in the supply tent with my name on 'em."

The professor ducked his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have detained all of you. But if it is lunch you wanted, we are just getting ready for ours. Feel free to join us." He gave a slight grin. "If it is cheese you're interested in, we have some excellent cheesecake in our cooler, fresh and nicely chilled."

Monty looked eager. "Now that's my kinda scientific advance."

&

They had a leisurely meal, during which they met the rest of the NIT team, and the pilot, Danshaku Akane, a female mouse who was an under-the-floor graduate learning from Professor Chinou, and test pilot for the NIT team's inventions. She was also very much in awe of the Gadget Hackwrench. The flight engineer was a Japanese dwarf squirrel, Shippo, who was an otaku and therefore found kindred spirits in both Dale and Foxglove.

As the lunch wound down, the professor invited Gadget, and whoever else wanted to, to see the Golden Carp. Chip and Monty accepted. The dirigible was decorated to look like it's name sake, with an outer layer of gold coloured silk painted with scales. It also had a dorsal and pectoral fins, a vertical tail fin, and even barbels trailing off which acted as anchor ropes. A one man bubble cockpit poked out of the bottom front, clearly made from an half egg shaped blister pack. There was no gondola or external propeller mounts, and this confused Monty.

"It looks roight pretty, but how does it fly?"

"Very well indeed." Chinou said, smirking, then continued, "I'm sorry, I could not resist. I will show you." He lead them underneath the belly where there was a large open hatch with a comb ladder leading up. The interior seemed to be build like a bouncy castle, mouse-high hollow tubes side by side. Gadget looked up and then brightened.

"Golly, they're those balloons humans use for balloon animals."

"Yes. They are all connected up to intake valves at the front so we can trim the lift. Not only do they generate lift, but they also form the structure. All that is needed are a few wires for cross bracing. That gives a considerable weight saving." He climbed up and the others followed him.

Inside the lower half was mostly empty space. At the front were two in line seats and controls, and further along were a number of mini soda stream canisters, which the professor told hem contained additional amounts of the complex helium synthesis that filled the balloons. Upon questioning, it seemed it was not too different from the stuff Gadget used for the Rangerplane. Great minds clearly thought alike. At the back was a complicated arrangement that looked like a second cousin to the mechanisms that powered the Rangerplane's wings.

"This is where we borrowed Hackwrench-san's ideas. A properly designed fish-like tail fin had a much lower drag and higher efficiency than the best propeller, and the lack of external pods reduces drag further. As you can see the counterweight here balances the tail motion, and stores energy like a bumble bees wing. Since we derive our ultimate power from solar energy, we can stay in the air almost indefinitely.

"We hope to win an Albatross award for completing the course without refuelling, or even landing, other than at the mandatory overnight stops. Since our flat out air speed is around 120 kilometres per hour we could theoretically do the entire course in about 10 hours. How does that compare to your vehicles go?"

Gadget looked slightly hesitant to answer, but her need for precision won through. "The Screaming Eagle can make a maximum of about 400 kilometres per hour, and a 2400 km range, while the Rangerwing does 335 kilometres per hour, in jet mode, and has an operational range of about 1000 kilometres. It can also travel on it's fans for another 250. However, getting that kind of speed out of a dirigible, it's very impressive. Both our planes are faster, but they use jet engines, and therefore dependant on fuel sources." She was putting things in their best light. "I'm guessing your power source is a closed cycle Stirling Engine, drawing heat from the upper surface?", she asked.

The professor looked pleased. "I should have known you'd see that, Hackwrench-san, yes, with Freon as a working fluid. The pectoral fins are both control surfaces and radiator panels. Actually I was hoping you might be able to help us. To avoid build-up of vibration, we have sensors in the nose that detect motion, and adjust the weight position accordingly, but under certain conditions it doesn't work correctly. Since the concept is yours… "

Gadget smiled brightly, happy to help. "I'll certainly give it my best effort."

This resulted in Chip and Monty going back to their area for tools, and then Chip helping out Gadget while the Monty and the others had a little excursion to the plaza and one of the observation balloons hanging over it.

While the trip was uneventful, something of note happened as they started to make their way back. As they headed for the transport carts, someone rushed around a corner of a hangar, and collided with Monty, who was trailing behind. Since Monterey Jack Colby was a robust individual, the person bounced off and landed on her rump, scattering the stack of card files she had been carrying. She started scrabbling around in the ground, obviously looking for something. She was a female mouse, with dark brown fur, wearing a plain skirt and light blouse. Her head fur was worn long and bound with a ribbon that matched the one on her tail, which waved as she pawed the floor. "Eto Umm…, glasses, glasses where are they!"

Monty noticed a pair of wire rimmed glasses lying to one side, and scooped them up... "Are these them?"

The girl mouse looked up, squinting, then reached out. "I think so…" She took them and replaced them, then realising her position for the first time, almost leaped upright. "Oh, I'm so sorry! gomen nasai! I was hurrying and did not look carefully…"

"No worries! I've leapt without lookin' a time or two meself." Seeing her properly for the first time, Monty bumped up his initial age estimate to late twenties, early thirties. She was pretty, and although she carried an ounce or two more than she really should, it was distributed pleasingly. "Here, let me help you with that paperwork…"

"Oh there's no…" Bonk The two of them had bent after the same piece of paper, and ended up in a meeting of minds… well foreheads anyway. Both moved their heads back slightly as they brought them up, and as a result ended up practically nose to nose. Monty became aware that behind the wire rimmed glasses, which did nothing to conceal them, a pair of amazingly deep, emerald eyes were staring into his…

"Hey, Monty! Who's your new friend?" Dale's voice caused the lady to start slightly, and since her position was somewhat unsteady already, with much pin-wheeling of arms she started to topple forwards, to fortunately be caught by Monty's arms. "Watch out there miss." he said, rather redundantly.

She caught her balance by pushing on his arms, colouring slightly. "Oh my, you're strong." He got her back on her hind-paws as Dale, Foxglove and Zipper arrived back there. "Zwho's zzzhe?"

Realising that her paw, warm and furry, was still in his, he was about to snatch it away, but instead let go gently.. "I don't roightly know Dale-lad, we haven't been properly introduced, yet."

"oh… Sorry again." The lady mouse bobbed a bow. "I am Kossori Kimiko. Normally I work at the small animal section of Yokohama University library, but my manager was helping arrange things here, and suggested I come and help."

"Pleased ta meet ya, Kumori-san." Monty replied. "Monterey Jack Colby's me name, and adventure's me game. These are me pallies Zipper, Dale, and Foxglove." The others said their hellos.

"I am very pleased to meet you all. But please call me Kimiko." She started to pick up the folders, and this time, with more care Monty and the others helped her. As the last of them were stacked in her paws, she looked downwards slightly and said, "I am very sorry I bumped into you, and thank you for your help. I would repay your kindness, if you wanted to join me for a cheddar milk shake, during my next off shift? I would like very much to hear of these adventures of which you speak"

"Well Ko… Kimiko…" Monty wasn't often uncertain, especially when cheese was involved, but this was one of those times. She was a nice girl, and obviously felt guilty about the whole business, though he should take part of the blame. Though in his time, as he'd once said, 'his share of romantic entanglements.', lately he'd not exactly sworn off females as being to unpredictable to deal with, but certainly hadn't been on the look out the way he once had. Partly because Desiree's actions had cut deep, but also because he was mindful of not setting a bad example as the nearest thing Gadget had to a parent, and general his avuncular role to all the Rangers.

That didn't mean he was averse to letting things happen. If he ever did meet a girl who could be more than a short term girl-friend it would have to be someone who was a bit of an adventurer herself, and cope with all his rough edges, of which there were a few. Kimiko didn't seem that sort, and she was quite a bit younger than him, though not in the 'young enough to be his daughter' age bracket. But she looked like she'd be hurt if he said no, and she was quite pretty… Oh well, a cheese shake wouldn't hurt any. "…alright! I'd be happy to lass."

She smiled brightly and nodded. "The milk bar near the far corner. I get off at 6pm…" She looked up at the big screen, which had a time displayed in one corner. "Oh my, these files are needed urgently! I must go!" She practically scampered off.

Dale grinned and nudged him in the ribs. "You gay dog, you! Looks like all the girls are falling for your… well just falling for you!"

Monty blushed. "Aw… lay off Dale-lad, she was just feeling guilty, and wanted to make it up to me."

"I think it was really sweet!" exclaimed Foxglove, "Just like something out of a shojo manga. Besides, Dale-darling, wasn't there quite a bit of falling when we first met?"

Dale blushed a bit himself, but then chuckled, "I guess so. C'mon Monty, she was showin' all the symptoms. Clutzing out, acting all shy, unable to look you in the eyes, I think she was sweet on you."

"Yer dreaming boyo..."

The good natured argument continued all the way back to the site. Just as they arrived, there was a loud roar, and an aircraft came past, slowing down after landing. It looked like someone had taken a dust-buster style vacuum cleaner and added a delta wing and single shark-like tail fin to the handle. This was because that was exactly what someone had done.

The nose had canard wing control surfaces and an undercarriage, and twin cockpits were set one each side of the base of the main body, bubble canopies made from transparent blister packs. A long jet engine was mounted directly below the handle, fusing into the main body at it's front end. On the tail fin and each wing was an insignia, a stylised gold letter M overlaid on a similar coloured triangle, all on a red background. The M was narrower at the base than the top, and above each point was a small gold dot, giving the effect of a crown.

Monty got a sudden sour look when he saw the logo. "Not that bloke again… well, I guess we should've expected him to come sleazing around."

Dale was first to react. "Huh, what's up? You look like you just ate some bad cheddar."

Monty sat down on a cotton reel stool and frowned. "It's who's down on the ground, pally. I'm guessing that plane belongs to a bloke called Reginald Mouseworthy, and there was never a bloke more poorly named. He's English, claims to be descended from Moustorian nobility, but I figure his ancestors ain't so fancy. He is wealthy, though I never heard anything good about where he gets his money. He also claims to be a top engineer and ace pilot, and throws all his considerable resources at designing and flying planes. Of course, he's been in the last two Trials, and always come out second to ol' Geegaw in the unlimited race. He's likely got a big score to settle, and since Geegaw ain't here, it's Gadget who'll haveta deal with him."

"Goodness, he doesn't sound very nice, but maybe he's changed for the better." Foxglove suggested.

"An' even if he hasn't, we're all here to stop him doing anything rotten." added Dale.

"Too roight. If that bandy legged bozo wants trouble with Gadget he's going to haveta go through all of us."

As they sat there, Gadget and Chip came back, looking glum.

"Yer saw him then?", asked Monty.

Gadget just nodded, and Chip put down the tool box he carried. "Gadget filled me in on the way over."

"Jeepers, I was having fun too. I fixed the problem with the sensors, it was simply time lag allowing a standing wave to… Well, anyway that idiot zoomed past and the turbulence almost knocked me off the ladder. If Chip hadn't been there to hold the ladder…"

Chip looked over at her. "I'll always be there for you."

Gadget looked back and smiled, eliciting a fond look in return. Unfortunately, before the warm and fuzzy levels could really build up, a voice intruded.

"Well what have we here? Why, it's the brat of that Hackwrench fellow!" A precise English voice spoke. The speaker was a tall, dignified looking mouse wearing a uniform shirt with a billed cap, and carrying a swagger stick. He appeared somewhere between Gadget and Monty in age, and would be quite handsome if he hadn't been affecting a sneer and a tone of mock surprise. He spat out a wad of well chewed gum, which dropped on the ground just outside their area.

Gadget lost her smile, and Monty did more than that. "Mouseworthy! You pompous gum chewing drongo! Speak careful-loike to Gadget."

The tall mouse grinned. "The cheese ball speaks. That's Lord Mouseworthy to you. I should of expected you to roll in and defend her, seeing as her father can't. Did he finally prang that dreadful old crate he insisted on flying?"

Gadget spoke coldly, an occurrence rare enough to merit a headline. "My father never crashed a plane in his life, as you undoubtedly know. And he beat you in the Screaming Eagle twice before."

For a second the mouse's polished demeanour cracked into a dreadful snarl, but he quickly recomposed himself. "A pity he isn't here so I could trounce him properly this time. My condolences on his unfortunate demise." The tone of his voice implied that when he said 'unfortunate', he really meant, 'delightful'. Now I remember, I heard you were the one to mangle your father's precious plane. A wheeled landing on ice, what an amateur mistake."

He dismissed the bulk of the Screaming Eagle II with a off-hand wave. "That must explain that misshapen melange of miscellaneous mechanical mistakes behind you, and this scrofulous lot of sub-species riff-raff hanging around. No real pilot would demean himself by joining up with a fourth rate spark plug tester like yourself."

Monty was balling his fists and unclenching them, and Chip was gritting his teeth. "Trash talk all you want on the ground, because we both know Gadget will kick your tail from here to there in the only place that matters, in the air. I'm guessing that piece of junk that just landed is yours."

"Not that it is any business of yours, chipmunk," and somehow he managed to imply a completely different word, and not a nice one, "but yes, the Cloudbuster is my most brilliant invention yet. She is the fastest small animal aircraft ever. Your own feeble jet engines and lumbering great hull are no match for my perfect streamlining and specially designed turbines."

Unseen by the mouse, Dale had sneaked around behind him and was aping and exaggerating the guy's every motion, nose in the air and paws fluttering. This did a more to cool the others off than an entire crate of chilled Coo Coo Cola.

Gadget was no longer scowling, and returned. "Golly, you're one to talk. A single extended turbo-jet with the dustbuster as an intake and compressor, and those fixed delta wings? Oh, I'm sure you can get almost 300 miles per hour out of it, on the straight and level. I actually considered a similar design… for about 3 seconds!" She giggled, mostly because of Dale's antics. "It looks impressive, I'll grant you, but it must have the glide ratio and manoeuvrability of a brick, and the fuel consumption must be through the roof! Thirty minutes, with takeoff and landing, unless you used space in the nose cone, which brings it's own problems. And let's not talk payload, because you probably don't have any…"

Mouseworthy cut her off by slapping his cane into his cupped paw, and it was clear he was thinking of hitting something else. "How did you get to see my design notes! You little…"

All the other Rangers stepped forward in a protective gesture. But Gadget seemed back to her usual cheerful self. "I didn't. I just reverse engineered the most logical engineering choices from the outside appearance and space limitations. I did get to see it for several seconds. But after all I'm only a fourth rate spark plug tester."

The tall mouse glowered, then turned on his heel, catching Dale by surprise. The Hawaiian shirted chipmunk dropped his snooty pose and put on a big cheesy grin as he side stepped away. "Uhhh… Nice weather we're having… donchaknow…" He said in an attempted posh accent. However, despite the fact that he'd done it perfectly as Dread Pirate Williams, it now seemed to escape him.

Mouseworthy was not amused. "You are fortunate that this place is under a truce. Otherwise our future conversation would be carried out through seconds."

Dale looked nonplussed. "Well… Don't let that stop you. I don't have that much to say to you either. A few seconds is all it would take."

"Peasant! I mean a meeting on the field of honour!"

Dale's clueless expression suddenly got a lot of extra clue. "You prate of honour, but show little yourself." He suddenly declaimed in his best Dread Pirate Williams voice. "You speak ill of the dead, and act in a most improper manner to a lady of quality. My blade is at your disposal at any time after the current truce ends."

The tall mouse started to say something, then thought better of it and strode away.

The other Rangers looked a bit stunned, except Foxglove who power glomphed him. "Oh darling, you were wonderful!"

Gadget nodded. "Golly, yes, where did you learn to speak like that?"

Dale grinned. "Shucks, there's been a lot of swashbuckling movies on the late, late night film line-ups. And Foxy likes it when I speak all fancy to her."

Chip made a mental note to start watching said movies along with Dale.

&

Despite his easy going attitude, Monterey Jack was a gentleman of the first water. As a result he would never keep a lady waiting. This meant although he had washed, brushed up, changed into his neater jumper and forfeited his usual flying helmet and scruffy jacket, he was still at the rendezvous on the stroke of six.

The café in question was rather more substantial than many of the yatai (cart) style vendors. It occupied a set back area from the midway, and had tables out front. The theme was early 90's jukebox. The tables were compact disks, silver side up, mounted on cut down plastic drinking cups. The stools were also made out of multicoloured minidisk cases, filled with padding and mounted on single serving milk pots. It was quite clear they could be detached, in which case they'd nest for easy storage.

The café building itself was a CD storage case with a kitchen and storage in back, and a counter made of the slide out tray with the top half folded down. Folded out, coloured CD jewel cases gave the counter an awning, providing shade and shelter while letting in some light. Obviously the whole thing was designed to fold up into a box and be transported wherever needed.

Monty went up and got himself a bowl of cheese snacks to nibble, then sat at one of the tables at the back and waited. Then he waited, and waited, and waited some more. By twenty past six, according to the illuminated digital watch at the counter, the cheese snacks were long since gone, and he was having some pretty bleak thoughts. Obviously the poor lass had gotten cold feet over her impulsive offer, and couldn't bring herself to come and apologise.

He was about to go when a scurrying dark brown mouse, still in the same blouse and skirt, came off the midway at a considerable pace. She narrowly avoided a collision with a group of cheerful French rats, and made a ping-pong ball like approach to his table, skirting disaster a dozen times. It was amazing, not a swinging tail, or sliding chair was avoided, except by the narrowest of margins. She finally came to a halt in front of him.

"Oh, you're still here, Colby-san!" She gave a little bow and continued, "I'm so sorry I'm late, but someone came to me at the last minute with changes to the volunteer duty rosters. They were most insistent it had to be done right away. I will go and get the cheese milkshakes, shall I?"

Monty broke into a wide smile. "That'd be fine, Kimiko-kun, and call me Monty. Make mine a cheddar, with parmesan sprinkles."

"Hai, Monty-kun." She went to the counter, and brought back a pair of milkshakes, miraculously without spilling a drop. She put them down and then slumped onto her stool with a sigh of relief.

"Hard day, was it?" Monty asked. His companion sighed. "You have no idea! It takes a lot of organisation to run an event this big, and we don't have that many permanent staff. We could probably build an airplane with the paper we use up, a human sized one! Oh dear, you don't want to hear about my problems."

"No worries. Yer here now, and that's what mattahs." There was a short silence as they both sucked on their milkshakes. The lady mouse visibly relaxed. There was a bit of an awkward silence. Although it was winter here too, the island was in sub-tropical latitudes, and the place was merely comfortably cool, and it was still light.

Monty had his first chance to look clearly at the lady who'd invited him here. Her face was slightly chubby, but that didn't hide the fact that she was pretty, if you did more than glance, especially the emerald eyes he'd noticed earlier. Her whiskers were fine and groomed out, and her ears were quite shapely. There was a slight scent of jasmine about her too. He realised he was staring, and was about to say something when Kimiko spoke first.

"You said something about adventures when we first met. I would love to hear about some."

"Now there I can oblige yer. Happens I was in Japan a couple a' years ago. Me ship had just docked at Tokyo harbour and me and Zipper…"

He drifted into storytelling mode, and was surprised to find Kimiko was actually listening. By the time he'd finished the tropical twilight had passed with shocking suddenness, and an employee had brought a lit candle stump, floating in a metal foil cup, out to their table.

"… so that was one cat oyaban who nevah wanted to hear about chopsticks again!"

Kimiko giggled, a lovely sound. "Oh my, Monty you do seem to end up in the oddest situations."

Monty chuckled. "It's kind of a family tradition. Both me mum and dad wandah all over the world, they're often not even on the same continent. But we're all glad to see each other when we do meet. How about your parents?"

He realised as soon as he said it that it was a mistake. Kimiko stiffened up, then tried to cover it. He immediately apologised. "Sorry, Kimoko-kun. Didn't meant to bring up bad memories."

"It is… alright, Monty. My parents and I had a… disagreement when I was younger. We don't speak any more."

"Still, I'm sorry. Look you got the milk shakes, what would you say to me getting us a meal?" He expected her to make some excuse, but surprisingly she brightened up. "I would say, I would like that very much."

Over the dinner, cheese omelettes on vegetable rice, they continued to talk, and Monty started telling another story, this time about the Rangers. He'd used chopsticks often enough and so had no problem eating between the lines. He gave a highly edited version of how they'd met, and then at Kimiko's prompting, about their trip to England and the meeting with his ghostly forebear.

"… now you don't have to believe me, but that's the way it happened, ghost and all."

Kimiko shook her head. "But I do. In Japan too, we have respect for our ancestoral spirits, even if they don't often make themselves as noticeable."

"Oh, yeah, Buddhism. I guess you would be more ready to credit that kind of thing, at that."

This got an approving expression. "You are well informed. Most people outside my country have very little interest in such things."

Monty put a paw to the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, well, I've been just about everywhere, and done just about everything. But I guess some of the best times in my life I've had with me pallies."

"These Rescue Rangers you spoke of. You must be very close."

"You got that roight. They're me best friends, but they're more loike family. Zipper, I've been taking care of since he were a nipper, and Gadget, well with her own dad gone, I do me best to fill in. Then there's Chip and Dale. Those two are as different as night and day, but they're both a pair of right battlers. They're loike a pair of favourite nephews, and Foxglove, the bat you met is loike a niece. All of 'em have come to me for advice at one time or another, and I do me level best to give it." Monty was actually a little surprised in retrospect how open he was being, but there was something about Kimiko that invited confidences.

Kimiko didn't seem to be bothered by the family references. "You didn't say how Foxglove came to be part of your group. How does she fit in?"

Monty grinned. "Now there's another story that might crowd yer suspension of disbelief. It all started when we'd gone out to see a movie. We took the Rangerwing, this was before it had a canopy, you havta understand, we took it to a drive in and…"

The tale finished off the meal, and a dessert course of strawberry cheesecake and drinks afterwards. "… as far as I know, Freddie is still in the clink. Dale and Foxglove got together, and she taught him to hand-glide. The two have been togther ever since."

Kimiko sniffled slightly and dabbed her eyes with the scrap of paper towel that came with the meal. "Oh my, that's so romantic! You all lead such exciting lives! It makes me feel rather plain and ordinary by comparison." She looked downcast.

Monty shook his head, then looked straight at her. "Kimiko, yer not ordinary, and no-one can call you plain. You were willin' t' believe my stories, and while they're the honest truth, no ordinary person would think it. Yer eyes are loike a pair of emeralds, and yer laugh is like a crystal clear spring in the middle of the outback, refreshin' ta all who hear it."

She looked down, a slight blush visible even through her fur. "There is no need to waste compliments on me. I am nothing special to look at, and I am a clutz, I know. Most people look at me and see no further than the glasses and the extra ounces."

"Then they're missin' a treat. In case yer haven't noticed I carry the occasional bit a' paddin' meself. Neveah bothers me. And I've got me own problem. I get these cheese attacks. It used to be the first whiff a a noice piece of cheese and I'd go runnin' after it, no matter what the danger to me or me pallies. Of course, now I always carry a wrapped piece of brie, so's I can break meself out of it, I still gotta watch meself."

Kimiko frowned, not angrily, but in puzzlement. "But there have been plenty of cheese smells around tonight, and you've been a perfect gentleman."

Monty realised she was right. There had been plenty of cheesy smells that would normally have meant he'd be visiting the counter every five minutes, but he'd ignored them. "I guess I had something… someone more distracting around."

This got another pleased giggle from Kimiko. "That is the first time I've been called a distraction, at least in a good way." She stopped smiling. "It was a good way, wasn't it?"

"Too roight. It's things like that make us special, you with yer distractin' ways, and me with me unique physique." He patted his chest with a thudding sound. "It's mostly muscle, anyhow, though I ain't no Blondi Beach muscle mouse. Me muscles is for work, not show."

"I could tell when you caught me. You aren't some lame bishonen pretty mouse, you're much more rugged, and capable."

Monty smirked. "Rugged, I loike that. You have a way with words, guess it comes from working in a library. Nevah been much for 'em meself…", then he realised what he was saying. "…but I can see it could be interestin' work, for the roight type a person."

Kimiko's answering smile told him she hadn't been fooled for a minute. "I guess it would look dull to someone like yourself. But…" She went on to tell him of some of it's history, how the first small animal libraries were like monasteries under human ones, with scribes laboriously copying out small scale reproductions of human books by paw, and people wanting to read came to the library and stayed there paying a fee in barter.

Simple reprographics equipment like mechanical handbill printers had been adapted as printing presses, making it slightly easier to reproduce the books, and lending libraries had started. Even newspapers could be reproduced from direct prints from the microfiche storage (somewhat out of date admittedly) Now access to computers and high end photographic printers made it so easy thousands of books had become available.

There was still little direct small animal writing, as opposed to publishing small animal editions of human works, as few creatures had the determination to write a book by hand, or the resources to type one on a computer. But things were getting easier as the small animal society received more sophisticated hand-me-downs, or even built their own out of human discards.

Monty wouldn't have expected to find it interesting, but there was something about Kimiko's voice. He suspected she could recite the ABCs and he'd still be interested. She was winding down when the proprietor of the café, a mongoose who managed to look tough, even in an apron, came over to their table.

"Sorry folks, but we're closing up for the night. I hope you enjoyed your meal."

"It were some roight bonzer grub, mate, but I guess you'll be wanting us to shove off."

The chef grinned. "Well I wouldn't have put it quite like that, but, yeah."

Monty got up and offered Kimiko his arm. She took it and got up, leaning on it for a moment until she got her balance. She bowed to the chef. "Thank you for an excellent meal."

As the pair walked out of the café enclosure, Monty said, "Would you loike me to escort you to yer place?" Kimiko had shown no signs of letting go of his arm, so it was either that or gnaw it off. She nodded, happily. They walked the rest of the way in silence, enjoying the night air and the great bright moon that sailed high in the sky.

Monty's internal dialogue was much less serene. He knew that they came from two different worlds, and that after the WAAT they'd probably go back to their own homes, him with the Rangers, her to her library in Yokohama. However that just decided him that they should make the most of every moment they did have together.

There were quarters for the permanent staff set up in the very back of one of the hangars, where a set of work benches and shelving once were. While the tools were long gone, it had been easy enough for the organisers to convert the drawers and shelving into all the housing and office space they needed.

Kimiko reluctantly let go of his arm when they got to the partitioned off shelf that was her sleeping quarters. She looked up at him, being about the same height as Gadget. "Thank you Monterey-kun… or can I just call you Monty? It was a most enjoyable evening."

"Fer me too, and yer can, on the condition I can call you Kimiko."

"I said so long ago." She reached up and put her hands to his cheeks, pulling his face down to her level. She changed her grip to a hug around his neck, and gave him a kiss right on the muzzle. "I hope to see you around, tomorrow maybe? I'm free until 10 am."

"That would be just bonzer, luv." He didn't realise he was saying it, but it got another smile from the mousette.

As she let go and let herself into her sleeping place, he turned and wandered off, happily humming 'Waltzing Matilda'.

****

Station Break - Snap!

The Rangers quickly got accustomed to life on Tomodachi Island. There were competitions for various classes of craft, and flying animals, to see who could go highest, or fastest, or manoeuvre the best. Their planes could have entered a few, but Gadget was only really interested in the big one, the unlimited air race that would be held over the last three days. An eight hundred mile route laid out over the three hundred mile stretch of islands to the south and east, with checkpoints (which doubled as recharging/refuelling stops) every 80 or so miles.

Some of the competitions were for model aircraft, as in building exact scale replicas of human planes. While many human model kits made a good start, they often let smaller details slip, and converting them into animal flyable models was a task as exacting and difficult as a human building a ship in a bottle. A few even had piston engines. There were also panels on various technical subjects and new discoveries. The WAAT was something of a showcase for small animal developments in technology. Dale took great delight when he found some Japanese animals had taken the core components of several handheld Gameguys, and converted them into small animal scale arcade machines. He spent several hours on the Dance Dance Revolution machine which used a converted full sized game controller as the floor pad.

Gadget, of course was in her element, visiting every seminar and presentation, and wanting to understand all of them. She usually had a certain chipmunk detective in tow. Despite the fact that he didn't understand most of the details, Chip still found himself enjoying the talks. Gadget's enthusiasm was infectious and her presence uplifting. Besides, he understood enough to understand the general purpose of some of the things on show, and could see applications for casework. Mouseworthy stayed out of their way, which suited them both.

Monty, being a world traveller, also had a lot of catching up to do. His association with Geegaw had made him acquainted with a number of the participants, and those he didn't know directly, usually had a mutual friend. Some had heard of the Rescue Rangers, and wanted to hear about their adventures, which gave Monty a chance to use his storytelling skills. Zipper was either flying around with him, or shmoozing with the small but active group of insect fliers at the convention. Most of them were natural fliers, but there were a couple of spider balloonists and one ant mechanic who built his own leaf and twig aircraft.

This didn't necessarily mean that Monty was alone. Kimiko was also a frequent visitor to the Ranger's camp, and got to be friendly with all the others. She seemed to have a positive thirst for his tales, whether of his own exploits, or those of the Rangers. She also told the others that although a few organisers and staff like her were full time, most of the work had been done by volunteers, ordinary members of the trials putting in a few hours of helping out. This lead to most of them doing a stint as security or stewards, while Gadget did a panel on Improvisational Engineering.

This turned into one of the conventions biggest successes. It had been an hour long filler to replace a session that had to be cancelled, but turned into a three hour marathon that filled out the section of hangar set aside for it, and ended only because she ran her voice hoarse answering questions. On Chip's advice she stuck to some of her more mundane inventions (he thought telling them about her garbage can space ship, or the reverse engineering of Nimnul tech and the salvaged Fleeblebroxian drive matrix might not be believed, or cause jealousy if it was.) Still, inventions like her various submersibles, railroad rocket shovel, the magno-ray, and her weather detector caused quite enough of a stir.

Foxy and Dale were having a great time, quite apart from time spent at the arcade. There were a large contingent of Japanese animals, and engineers, and both types often had otaku leanings. The calculator wrist watch data bank that Gadget had reconditioned as a PDA for Foxglove quickly filled with e-mail addresses. Her sketching talent and otaku knowledge quickly won her friends, whereas Dale just needed to be his usual goofball self. Besides, he'd found the food court, with delicacies from all over the world. Foxglove introduced him to the wonders of Japanese snack food, which he quickly became a big fan of. However, not every encounter was a pleasant one.

Foxglove had been waiting for Dale to return from the throng around the stall selling flavoured crushed ice with cones for the two of them. She suddenly 'heard' a trio of sonar chirps aimed right at her. A trio of big male bats with impressive flight muscles veered towards her.

The one in the middle spoke first, in Russian accented Battish, "What is beauty such as you doing by yourself?"

Foxglove looked miffed. "Waiting for my boyfriend to get back, so back off."

"Hey! Whatcha doing with Foxy!", Dale's voice came from behind them. He pushed through between two wings and handed her a cone with red coloured ice. He stood beside her, "Sorry I took so long. I hadta convince them to make ketchup flavoured ice."

The lead bat continued to speak to Foxy. "You are having the little joke, no? He is grounder, nyekulturny uncultured." The word 'grounder' was purely Battish in origin, and a rather impolite way of referring to creatures without wings.

Dale was not going to be ignored. "Yeah? And what does that make you? Who are you guys anyway?"

The bat drew himself up to his full height, a good half head taller than Dale. "I am Mikhael Andrevitch…", the second stepped forward to one side, "…Sergi Andrevitch…", the other stepped in on the other, "…Dimitri Andrevitch, and together we are…"

"Wyld Stalions?", Dale interjected.

The trio were thrown off stride. "… Wyld… no! The Flying Kamarazov Brothers."

Foxglove just shrugged, and Dale was equally unimpressed. "You're also outta luck. Foxy's had more than enough of 'vitches' having been a familiar an' all. And you guys aren't just familiar, you're annoying."

The centre one growled. "You are making the mockery of us? What would you be knowing of the needs of bats? You do not have wings."

"But Dale has me, so there!" Foxglove said, snuggling into Dale's free arm and wrapping a wing over his shoulder. She stuck her tongue out.

"And I do so have wings! …well sorta.", Dale replied, heatedly. He reluctantly disengaged himself from Foxglove's snuggle and stepped round in front of her in a protective stance. He pressed a release on the harness under his Hawaiian shirt, and Gadget's latest batglider unfolded, the twin control bars unfolding over his shoulders with their custom made paw grips.

The three bats looked on for a moment, then laughed heartily. "A glider?", Dimitri asked, still chuckling. "You are byeazoomnee crazy if you are thinking that you impress real fliers with that."

Foxglove came up behind Dale and snuggled up behind him, talking over his shoulder. "My darling is a real flyer too! He's as good as any bat who ever flew!"

That got their attention. Michael said, "That is the big boast, no? I do not see him putting money in mouth. Let him enter un-powered acrobatics competition and prove it!"

Dale wasn't about to let them get away with that, or fail to back up Foxy. "Huh, you got it! I'll be there, and you bet your tails I'll beat you guys too!"

Mikhael smirked. "If not, maybe you stick to climbing trees. We see you there." They strode off, proudly.

Dale stood there watching them before being engulfed by a batty hug. "Oh Dale, how brave of you to stand up to all three of them!"

Dale was momentarily dazed by the foxgloving, but then he put his arms around her gently, leaned close, and whispered gently in her ear. "Uhhhh… Foxy, could you help me with the glider? I need some help retracting these wings."

An older mouse in a yellow Hawaiian shirt came up to the two Rangers as they watched the three bats recede. He obviously mistook Dale for a fellow countryman, because he shook his head, "Keiki, Kid are you lolo crazy? You know who those haole foreigners are?"

Dale and Foxglove both shook their heads. The mouse carried on. "The Flying Kamarazov Brothers are the Russian champion formation flyers, and winners of the last WAAT un-powered acrobatics competition! And you just challenged them!"

Foxy released Dale and started helping push the wings back into their retracted position. This did not stop her saying brightly, "Don't worry sir, Dale is very creative, and a really good flyer. I bet he already has a plan!"

Dale put on his best grin, and tapped the side of his red nose with the side of one of his paw pads. "Maybe I do, Foxy-mitten, maybe I do…"

&

Dale was pacing back and forth frantically and muttering. "Gotta getta plan! Gotta getta plan! Gotta…" There was a loud bonking sound.

Dale looked up at Chip with an annoyed expression. "Hey! Whatddya do that for!"

"Because you needed it. Stop panicking and start thinking." The scene was the cargo compartment of the Screaming Eagle, and Chip stood over the fallen Dale. He then held out a paw and dragged him up.

Dale's annoyance vanished, to be replaced by worry. "What with? You always said I was a goof, and this hasta be the biggest goof I ever made. I can't back down and shame Foxy after she stood up for me like that, But how can I go up against these guys!"

Chip felt guilty. This was fall out from the early days of the Rangers, when his crush on Gadget had made him look for any flaw in his best friend and potential rival, and worse still make it clear to the others. Well, while he couldn't change the past… maybe he could help Dale gain enough confidence to face this.

"Don't give me that." The harsh tone pulled Dale out of his melancholy. "I've seen you go toe to toe with a sword wielding alligator, so you can't be scared of a bunch of bats." He sighed and changed to a gentler tone.

"This is partly my fault. I may have apologised since for the way I acted, but seems like I did such a good job of convincing everybody you were a clutz-up even you believe it. What about the time you saved us all from that mad chocolate maker, or your stint as Double O Dale, or Ram-Dale or even that Red Badger of Courage business? Maybe normally you find it easier to goof around, but when you really need to pull it out, you can be scarily competent."

"But when I was the Red Badger, my plans all fouled up."

"Except the last one, which worked in spades. Besides they weren't bad plans, just poorly executed, and that's because you didn't have the experience. It's not like I covered my self in glory that time either. If I'd been acting like a leader, I would have given you a chance to develop those skills, but you already know why that didn't happen."

"Okay, who are you, and what've you done with Chip?"

Chip growled. "I'm trying to help you, you…" he cut himself off. "I can always bonk you on the head again if that'll make you feel better."

Dale back-watered rapidly. "No, that's okay. But what'm I going to do?"

"Well first your going to state the problem, stripped of all the emotional verbiage."

Dale thought. "Uhh… I guess it's to win the un-powered acrobatics competition. But how…"

Chip interrupted him. "Hold up. Think Dread Pirate Williams. What are your assets?"

"Oh… me, I guess, and my glider…", Dale scratched his head.

"What about Foxy, and the rest of us?"

"I hadn't thought of that, I guess so."

Chip shook his head. "And you're the one with the reputation for thinking outside the box. What about your liabilities?"

Dale was getting into this now. "I'm up against guys who won the competition last time and are expert flyers. They've gotta know every trick in the book. Whereas I've never done this before in my life."

Chip nodded. "Fair assessment. Alright, you need to use these assets to produce a routine that will win. You have the rules."

"But I don't know anything about acrobatics competitions…"

"Stop worrying about what you can't do, and focus on what you can. Besides, who says it has to be just you up there? Get Foxy in on it, she's a great flier, and figure out something the two of you can do."

Dale nodded, looking unusually thoughtful. "I guess that'd work, but we don't have time to practice anything fancy enough."

"Well is there anything you already know?"

Dale paced back and forth. "Well, we just kinda play when we fly together… Maybe… no it's silly… but back when I was still learning, we used to play a game, called 'Chase me Charlie'. She'd fly and I'd try to catch her. But it was just a kids game she knew, a way for young bats to train."

"It taught you well enough. Now you just need to jazz it up, make it look good."

"But how?"

"You tell me! You're the one who's got every adventure film and comic ever written stored up in that peanut noggin of yours."

Dale ignored the off hand jibe, a sign that he was actually thinking. "Hey, yeah, it's a performance, acting, and that I can do. It can't be anything too fancy, we only want a few minutes of performance time, and you gotta remember our audience is from all over, so it can't be too specific, or we'll lose 'em… I got it!"

"Yeah?"

"There was this late, late show all about comics and films and some professor was talking about how they were all based on a very few basic stories, common to everybody. I would'a fallen asleep but he was illustrating it with Kablammo man episodes. One of the ones used a lot was 'Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl.' It's a really fundamental sorta thing, common to practically every culture. We do some sort of meeting scene at the very start, then I chase after Foxy and try to impress her, and finally we land and get together for the big kiss at the finale. I can even put in some slapstick… playing the goof shouldn't be hard… this'll work!"

Chip smirked. "There, you can do it when you try."

Dale sighed. "Thanks to you."

"Uh uh. You came up with the idea, I just guided you through working it out."

"You mean that? Oh, I get ya. This is one of those leadership things."

"Nope. That was a 'friendship thing'. My leadership thing comes in when you tell me what you need from us to make it work, and I make sure it happens. So start figuring it out, buddy."

&

Everyone rallied round, preparing props and background stuff. Their good relationship with Tamaburo and Kimiko got them the computer time to get things ready, and then all they could do was wait…

"… and the Flying Kamarazov brothers complete their routine with the difficult Triple Parabolic Pass, completed perfectly!" The announcer was an over excited hamster in a baseball cap. He was almost drowned out by the ohhs and ahhs of the crowd, and the Kossack style music playing over the sound system. The main plaza was thronged by the audience for the un-powered acrobatics event. As the trio of big bats came in for a perfect synchronised landing on the platform, just as the music hit it's final beat, the crowd burst into cheers. The trio posed proudly, big smiles on their faces.

"And the judges are about to give their marks out of six…"

The trio of judges, a bowler hatted pipistrel bat, a peregrine falcon, and a big African dragonfly bedecked with beads and a sash, were all pressing buttons on the calculator watch keypads mounted in their podiums. Up on the big projector screen behind the stage appeared two sets of numbers. Artistic merit: 5.6, 5.7, 5.7. Technical Merit: 6.0, 6.0, 6.0. That got some gasps and clapping from the crowd.

"Ohhh… and it's a perfect score for technical skill, the first time in 10 years, and a an excellent one for entertainment value. Overall it's a 35 out of a maximum of 36… which puts them at the top of the leader board! And with their nearest competitor on 34.2, the final contestants will have to do something really spectacular to get into the top three."

The stage was just in front of the big projector screen, at one end of the plaza. It was only a 40 inch, 'tabletop' screen, but to a small animal it was impressive. Set back behind it there was a makeshift tent that covered the reconditioned projector and laptop computer that generated the images, and a small town of milk cartons and cereal boxes that served as offices and the operations area for the convention. The air was cool enough today that the hot air rising from the souped up projector's fan rippled the air as it trickled out of the peak. Dale, up on the roof of a hangar overlooking the plaza from behind, looked down on the scene below with an uncharacteristically worried look. "Gosh! Look at 'em all! What if I mess up?"

He was interrupted by a double winged hug. "You won't, cutie. I believe in you."

Dale turned his head to find a pair of big golden orbs staring lovingly into his. He sighed and relaxed into the hug. "I wasn't this nervous even when we did a dance routine at Fat Cat's casino."

"Dale, you'll do fine. I made sure our background music and visuals are properly cued, Chip and Zipper are managing them, everything's prepared, and if something unexpected does happen, you'll probably just turn it into part of the act."

The chipmunk took a shuddering breath and exhaled, relaxing. "Whooo!" He looked straight back at her. "Y'know, having someone like you… I think I might just be the luckiest guy in the entire world." That got him a nose nuzzle and a smooch.

"Our final contestants are newcomers to the competition, from the USA, Dale Oakmont and Foxglove." Their pictures appeared side by side on the big screen.

"Uh oh… that's our cue." Below them music started, a gentle upbeat tune. On the screen the image zoomed in on the roof of the hangar with Foxglove standing there. This had actually been filmed earlier that day by the hovering Rangerwing, from a camera point out over the hangar edge. Almost immediately Dale walked in from the side, clearly nervous and hesitantly offered the bat girl a piece of wrapped chocolate. A great actor can convey a lot simply by a gestalt of expression and movement, and this had all the signs of a guy making a first approach to someone they really liked, but wasn't sure liked them.

He immediately looked down at his paws. Having watched enough anime to know them, he added a few Japanese visual cues for nervousness like steepling two fingers together and pressing them against each other. He needn't have worried. The chocolate got him a chocolatey peck on the cheek. Then the girl bat got a mischievous expression and skipped away, flying off the edge and blowing a kiss. As she did, Foxglove repeated the actions exactly in reality, becoming visible for the first time to the crowds below.

The point of view smoothly swept round so the edge of the hangar roof could be seen beyond Dale, but the plaza itself was obscured. The music segued into one of Foxglove's favourite pieces of flying music, 'Up in the Air' from Macross Plus. As the change occurred so a change came over Dale on the screen. The nervousness was gone, and obvious joy was in it's place, right down to his ears twitching. Suddenly he showed a determined expression, and charged at the edge of the hangar roof. Just at the music went into it's first cymbal crash, he plunged over the edge, to not a few gasps from the audience, as the real Dale had matched it. The screen faded out as attention turned to the diving chipmunk.

The Rangerwing, piloted by Gadget and Monty, was hovering off to one side. It's plunger harpoons were at the ready, but it wasn't needed. Dale's batwing glider unfolded from it's backpack without a hitch. As the main refrain played he swooped and then soared, bringing himself up level with the hovering bat girl and just in front of her, then dived and soared up behind her as she turned to face him and the refrain repeated. She side-slipped away and he followed as the music went on, performing barrel rolls and loops and vertical turns in time to the music, ending with them both doing a soaring stall facing one another as the music reached a crescendo. They spun away as the second refrain started, almost dancing together as the music jigged and then going into a follow my leader, Foxglove leading that did close passes of the audience, and then each other. It was clear from their expressions that Foxglove was teasing playfully, and Dale was following worshipfully.

The audience was seeing nothing more than two superb flyers having fun, but the judges and other experts could see deeper. Foxglove was seeking out wind currents that could give Dale lift and incorporating indications into her movements in time to the music. Dale in turn was using the indications and following her, a bar behind and also in time with the music. Such a synchronised performance required a great degree of communication and understanding, all the more so because since the wind currents couldn't be predicted, it had to be improvised.

A trained flyer would have said it couldn't be done, but the only ones Foxglove and Dale had ever trained with was each other. It was a clear example of Foxglove's first law 'Reminding someone it can't be done, is a sure way to ensure it can't.' and Dale's corollary, 'If you don't know something can't be done, you may be able to do it.' Or 'Achievement through Ignorance.' as Chip liked to call it.

Between hangars some bushes had grown up, and on one pass Dale dipped low, skimming them and plucking a pre-prepared flower in passing. He came away with it held between his teeth, then dumped a number of small leaves out of his shirt as he glided across the plaza, getting a few laughs from the crowd. He glided behind the main screen, catching the upward thermal from the projector and went up like an express elevator, popping up over the top of the screen in a thinker pose. That got a bigger laugh, followed by an aww as he swept in and handed over the flower to Foxglove, again en passant. Not easy to do, even if your partner has built in sonar.

Where the music grew quieter, the pair drifted over the open air food stalls, and Dale went into another one of his pre-planned antics. He shifted his weight and came to a hover in mid air, balancing his weight, the air and the rising heat from the stalls. He exaggeratedly looked back and forth between the hovering Foxglove and the stalls, an expression of hunger on his face, then mimed running towards them, legs wagging comically and arms pumping. He suddenly did a 'aha' take and tipped out of his hover into an inverted loop de loop, plucking an inch long stick of cut down pocky from a stall holders hands.

On the upward path he bellied his wings to take best advantage of the rising air from the hot food stalls, and soared up to meet Foxglove, holding the pocky stick between his teeth. They were face to face, spiralling down, as they each nibbled along the length of chocolate covered biscuit stick. Obviously this led to a 'Lady and the Tramp' style kiss. Then they split away and rejoined wing on wing, to go into a synchronised set of finishing moves as the music reprised the original theme.

As the coda started, Dale dropped down to a perfect two point landing on the stage. As it played out, Foxglove came down, dropping into a perfect ballerina hold in Dale's arms. As it reached it's final beats, Dale gently lowered the bat and she glomphed him just as the music hit it's final beat. This got a round of claps and cheers as the bat-winged hug went on. It took a cough from the announcer before the pair unwrapped themselves into a side by side pose, wing tip in paw, with both of them grinning rather foolishly.

"And a spectacular showing from the newcomers! The crowd are clearly impressed." The announcer was equally clearly a master of the blooming obvious. "But let's see what the judges think."

The figures slowly appeared on the board. Artistic merit: 6.0… 5.9… 6.0. This got a cheer from the crowd, and a comment from the announcer. "Well folks, an almost perfect score for artistry, certainly the highest in the competition… and here comes the decider, the technique scores."

The first number appeared, 5.6… Dale gritted his teeth as he watched. 5.6… Foxglove's wing was around his shoulder, hugging fiercely, 5.5. There was a couple of seconds as people worked it out, though there were gasps from the faster calculators. The total appeared… 34.6.

"Amazing! These newcomers to the scene have come out in second place against strong competition! Indeed they are only short of the winners by two tenths of a point. It's a remarkable upset…"

Upset was the word. Dale went through the motions of the award ceremony, putting on his best grin for the crowd, and Foxglove, but she could tell he wasn't entirely happy. After the congratulations, and the pats on the back from the others, they finally had some moments alone.

"What's wrong darling? You were wonderful!" asked Foxglove, practically surgically attached to his arm.

"Not wonderful enough…" Dale said gloomily as he saw the Mikhael of the Flying Kamarazovs approach Attached to him was a pretty bat maid with a fur stole around her shoulders.

"Hey, is Wyld Stallion chipmunk. I am just telling Natalia about you… Why is you having face long enough for stallion anyways?"

Dale sighed. "No need to rub it in, I'll stick to climbing trees…" This got Foxy looking at him strangely.

"What is the stupid talking for? Was coming to say I was eating own words with salt. You were showing you may be chipmunk, but must be bat in last life."

Dale looked surprised. "But you said if I couldn't beat you I should…" He stuttered to a halt as the bat started laughing. Eventually he gasped to a halt. "Is too much… That was just flexing of wing muscles, was not serious. I was annoyed because thought lady was on own, not safe, and then you were getting up nose. You are needing to be increasing in lightness."

Natalia interjected. "I think you meant getting in your face and lightening up, darlink."

Mikhael looked puzzled. "Is that not what I am saying?"

We pause for a moment while the reader boggles at the concept that anyone would tell Dale to lighten up.

"So that's why…"

"You are thinking instead I try to steal away? Is to be laughing, Natalia is more than enough for me."

The girl bat in question tightened her grip around his wing. "You is better be rememberink that darlink." She said in a stern tone. This was quickly mitigated by a giggle. "Come, I is wanting to know how we do that think with chocolate stick. Is lookink very… interestink." She gave her bat beau a smouldering look and he blushed up to the tip of his ears, which being a bat took some time.

Foxglove gave a little smile. "Oh goodness yes. I intend to have Dale do several repeat performances, just for me…" She gave him a tight little squeeze with her wing, and his ears twitched.

Mikhael tried changing the subject. "We are going to arcade. Like Miyazaki films, Dance Dance Revolution is hard to come by in my country."

Foxglove smiled. "You are a fan of Miyazaki films?" "…and Dance Dance Revolution?" added Dale.

"Am pleading guilty to both. Do I speak to fellow afflicted?"

"You betcha!" said Dale grinning broadly. "Say, if we come along, you can give me a few pointers on what we did wrong. In return I'll show you how a pro does DDR." He was clearly being funny rather than challenging.

Mikhael took it in the spirit in which it was meant. "Am already knowing. I am doing it, after all."

"We'll see! Let's go then…" Dale raced off ahead, closely followed by the Russian bat.

Natalia and Foxglove trailed along after them at a more sedate pace. "Honestly, Dale can be such an enthusiast at times, just like a little kid." The American bat girl sighed.

"So is Mikhael. All males is same. But would you really be wanting him different?"

Foxglove shook her head happily as the two walked on.

****

To be continued…

If Dale and his girl ever went to visit these two in their homeland, would the story be called, 'From Russia with Foxglove'?


	3. Chapter 3

****

On a Wingnut and a Prayer Part 3

Gadget's unintentional keynote speech, and the amazing victory scored by Dale and Foxglove, ensured the Rangers gained the notice of the entire convention. Added to the retellings of Monty's stories, and Gadget's already high reputation as an exceptional inventor and engineer from her published articles, they quickly became popular people to visit. In most cases contact details were given, and most of them were surprised that Gadget didn't have an e-mail address.

Gadget had never gotten around to putting a computer into the Treehouse, mainly because she was worried about the structural implications of another room large enough to take even a small desktop. Of course, now Hangar B-25 was back in use, this was no longer a problem. Salvaging a server from Stanislawski's junk yard would be easy enough, and putting it back in service at her old home was not a problem. All they'd need at RRHQ would be a palmtop keyboard, a graphics card connected to the TV, any kind of PDA motherboard to handle the interfaces and a wireless link to the main computer. It should work with no problems, unless she used Windows.

In the mean time, Foxglove said she could provide some stopgap web-mail accounts, via the City University server. Chip remarked that at the rate they were collecting contacts, they'd soon have a network bigger than the Rescue Aid Society.

Finally, the morning of the Unlimited Air Race dawned. The camps of the various contestants were a hive of activity, especially one group of bees who'd turned their home into a dirigible, and intended to haul it along purely by main strength. The Rescue Rangers' place was almost as lively, Monty cooking al fresco, Dale checking it was al dente and Chip fetching all-a the ingredients.

"Foxglove! Have you seen my hairbrush?" cried a certain blonde mouse who was using the wash basin inside the Eagle. Gadget had been hunting around for several minutes.

The bat belle was sitting in one of the passenger seats just forward of the steps, checking herself with a mirror. "Mmm… no. We'll probably find it when we pack to go home. Just use mine instead, okay? You start last, so you won't be taking off till almost mid-day."

Gadget used the bat's brush, a frustrated expression on her face. "Golly, I know. But it's just, this is it! I'm so impatient I can't contain myself… well obviously I can contain myself since I am, in the sense that the amount of material in my body takes up exactly the right space to be contained by my person, but …"

"Please, slow down. You sound like Dale-darling after three bottles of cola." Foxglove got up and came over to stand beside her. "I guess it is pretty exciting. But it's not like you have much chance of losing. The only thing that can even touch you for speed is the Cloudbuster, and you said your calculations showed he'd lose more time on the ground being refueled than he'd gain from his speed advantage." She put a wingtip on the inventor's shoulder.

"I know, and that worries me. He must be planning something, considering how oddly he acted at the time trials."

The bat's brow furrowed. "I still don't understand what all that was about. Why the race beforehand, and why did you end up starting last for this one when you won?" She could feel the tenseness in her friend's muscles, both with her sensitive wingtips, and the sonar pulses she sent between sentences. She started giving Gadget a backrub. Hopefully having something to explain would help her calm down.

Gadget unconsciously leant into the backrub as she said the words that would make most Rangers duck and cover almost as fast as 'Should' and 'No Problems' in the same sentence.

"It's really quite simple. The course must be patrolled, so it makes sense to keep the contestants together as much as possible. Add to that the fact that you have to stagger the aircraft launches, in order to avoid the risk of collisions, and it makes sense for the slowest to start first. The faster planes will be catching up, and therefore in the same area, simplifying keeping track of them. Since it's the total flight time including refueling stops, that decides the winner, it doesn't really matter where you start."

The bat nodded. "I think I see. But what exactly was so odd?"

"Mouseworthy should have won. He held the Cloudbuster at well below its design speed, and it showed. Unlike the Eagle, which has variable geometry wings, and can adapt to any speed regime, those fixed delta wings are pitiful airfoils at anything below 130 knots… sorry 150 mph, and he never went above 180 mph. Look how long it took him to reach a stable altitude, and how wide and relatively slow his turns were. The only thing I can think of is he couldn't bear to start last, or see me leave before him."

The time trials had been in WAAT membership order, and so Gadget had gone first. She had simply rolled out onto the runway on tractor treads, done a full power vertical takeoff and then did the course, five 20 km circuits at 90 thrust. The Rangerwing had been registered as a support vehicle for the race, and had to have a launch slot determined. Chip had switched to stork leg gear, and walked the ducted fan/jet out to the runway, before doing a vertical takeoff on fans. The multipurpose vehicle had been given the second to last slot based on its only slightly longer time. This meant Mouseworthy's time put him third to last, just in front of the two Ranger vehicles.

"I guess that makes sense. He really isn't a very nice person at all." For Foxglove, this was a blistering diatribe.

Gadget set to cleaning her teeth with rather more force than usual. At least her toothbrush, originally part of a watchmakers' kit, hadn't gotten lost. She could see Foxglove behind her in the piece of mirror plastic set over the bowl.

The bat maid changed the subject. "So have you and Chip set a date?"

Splort! Aficionados of the spit-take would have given Gadget's effort good marks. "Huh, what?"

"Goodness, you think nobody's noticed? C'mon, you and Chip are always going around together."

"Well, I mean, golly, that's because we're friends." Gadget was slightly panicked. While she'd decided that she might well have some fairly deep feelings for Chip, she was still very nervous about doing much more than thinking about them, or at the very most passively experimenting. Chip had been attentive, and she'd found she thoroughly enjoyed the attention, but she wasn't sure exactly how to take it any further, or what it might lead to. Well she did, but the very thought made her blush. She had to get off the topic before it showed.

"Besides, Chip is taking an interest in engineering. Certainly with his help designing the new Eagle was a lot quicker and safer." That was safe enough. She started scrubbing furiously at her molars with the brush.

"I've got a feeling the reason he's interested in engineering has blue eyes, blonde hair and a long tail. Every time he looks at you, his heart rate goes up, and I've noticed yours doing the same thing, like when he was talking about protecting you, or just now." Foxglove took one wing away from Gadget's shoulders and tapped her ear. "These things aren't just for decoration, you know. You should say something, or just take him up to your workshop and show him your…" she gave the back muscles a harder squeeze, "…sprocket collection."

Gadget's spit takes were improving. This one was surely Olympic level. Her face suddenly appeared to be receding at a good portion of the speed of light from the red shift caused by the resultant blush. Foxglove ended up falling over backwards on the floor, laughing helplessly.

"FOXGLOVE!" Gadget rounded on the bat, who was still giggling furiously. "I'm not that kind of girl!"

The bat calmed down, seeing Gadget was annoyed. "I'm sorry… I guess darling has been rubbing off on me. It's just your reaction was priceless. Besides, I said something perfectly innocent. You were the one who read something naughty into it. If you're thinking that way about Chip, you definitely need to say something."

Gadgets annoyance vanished. "But… I'm not sure what to say… I don't really know what I'm feeling, or what Chip's feeling anymore. He used to make passes at me, and so did Dale, but it was all kind of silly, and I was never too sure if they were serious or just teasing. I did my best to ignore or defuse it, because I didn't want them fighting. Now, what if I've left it until too late? What if he's decided I'll never be more than a friend. Dale has you, and Chip… I'm sure there are plenty of girls who would fall into his paws.

"And then there's me. Am I really feeling what I think I'm feeling, or am I just thinking that I'm feeling what I'm supposed to be feeling in this sort of situation, and picking Chip because he's available?" Gadget looked frustrated. "I enjoy our time together, but that might just be because he's letting me do things I want to do."

Foxglove thought about this for a moment, looking more serious. "I think the two of you are right for each other and you're both just nervous about showing it. But… maybe you should take him somewhere he wants to go and see if you still enjoy it. Maybe if there's a Sureluck Jones exhibit at a museum. He's a big fan, isn't he?"

Gadget was stopped for a moment, then said, "That's brilliant! You're a genius!"

Foxglove looked askance at her, followed with a couple of extra skances. "Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

From outside they both heard Monty's call. "Grub's up. Come n' get it!" They arrived last at the table, delayed by vanishing hairbrushes. Dale proclaimed it a possible case, Chip insisted he was a probable head case and the food was served.

The Australian chef had out done himself, with an eclectic mix of foods, cheese flaps, banana fritters, mushroom omelette, and both steaming hot acorn coffee and cool orange juice. In deference to the local cuisine, miso soup boiled away along side the coffee container. He'd also made riceballs (moochi) coated in a mix of poppy and sesame seed and filled riceballs (nigirimeshi) with salted plum (umeboshi) and wrapped in edible seaweed (nori). Since a rice grain to a mouse was about the size of a large boiled sweet on a human scale, it required a rather special technique to squeeze them together, something he'd learned from Kimiko.

The meal was doubly enjoyable in the morning coolness, as the sun was still low on the horizon. The smells were sharp, the company pleasant and upbeat. Zipper was not present, having been at the joint party that the Rangers and Nekomi Tech people had held. He'd discovered that sweetened saki was not to be taken lightly, despite its innocuous flavour, and was currently sleeping it off. As he finished his third helping of omelette, Chip went over the flight support strategy.

"Since the Rangerwing is slower, we're making the best of our head-start." He placed a doll-house salt shaker off to one side, and the pepper pot further forward to the other side. Finally the ketchup squirter went furthest away. He started indicating a path between them with his paw.

"We'll stay on the inside of the zig-zag each time, cutting the corners. That way we'll get to the third checkpoint, which is the first overnight stop, before Gadget does. Since we've mounted booster rockets, if we're needed we can get back to the Eagle in a hurry. Gadget, are you sure you want to run the Eagle solo? I can understand the Wing carrying us and the supplies to minimise your payload, but a co-pilot might come in handy."

The mouse inventor shook her head. "Golly, I can understand your worry guys, but this is my test, and I want to do this much of it myself. Besides, it'll take me no more than an hour and twelve minutes, thirteen seconds, give or take three minutes five seconds to allow for wind and environmental variables, to traverse all three checkpoints."

Dale looked puzzled. "Izzat all? Why's the race taking three days?"

Monty answered him. "Dale-lad, the stages are around 80 miles each. Figure out how long it'd take the original Rangerplane, and remember a lotta the planes here don't even do that. We're talking a couple of hours per stage, plus most of 'em need a recharge. Gadget's inventions have spoiled yer."

"I guess we're ready," Chip said, then chuckled and got up, making a show of examining his red nosed friend's head like a melon. "No, no spoilage." He tapped. "Hollow, yes but…" Dale spun off his seat and jumped on him, grinning. "I'll give you hollow…"

There ensued a wrestling match with a lot of overacting and chattering chipmunk laughter. It turned into silly sumo, with elements of Hong Kong martial arts movie. Foxglove cheered Dale on with increasingly daft suggestions for martial arts or possibly Pokemon moves, while Gadget did the same for Chip and Monty acted as referee.

"Ha, red nosed one, your sumo is mighty, but you are no match for one of the fedora school!"

"Aww, your fedora school is old hat! I shall defeat it with my mastery of upsi-daisy, oki-doki and hurdi-gurdi!"

"Dale I choose you! Use your Invincible Tickle of Doom!"

"Chip, watch out for his left foot… of course you should also be watching for his right foot and both his arms as well, but particularly… oh, scratch that." Gadget had many awesome skills, but cheerleading was not one of them. "Maybe the two of you should combine styles and form a Red Hat school."

This stopped the match dead as Dale and Monty tried to work out what she meant. Only Foxglove (the resident computer geek) and Chip (who'd been to the same lectures as Gadget) burst out giggling, or chuckling, having gotten the joke. After an explanation, the match was called off, without a clear winner, due to cooling food. This was quickly dealt with, the leftovers being distributed for packed lunches. Suitably fortified, with an option on fiftified and sixtified, the Rangers set about getting the planes ready for the big race, doing flight inspections and loading.

&

Aircraft after aircraft had moved onto the runway and taken off under the watch of WAAT marshals. Over half the vehicles had qualified, and by the time they got to the Cloudbuster, the place was looking rather empty. The Golden Carp had taken off over an hour ago, and a support dirigible with Mouseworthy's crest even earlier.

As Mouseworthy's plane rolled past, everyone noticed some additions. Slung under each wing was a glass soda bottle of 8-Across, cap facing backwards. As luck would have it, the plane stopped just short of the Ranger's site, and they got a good look. As the marshal waved for him to start, an automatic bottle opener arrangement mounted on each popped the caps, and a huge twin jet of frothy soda sprayed out, adding to the thrust of the jets. The Cloudbuster took off like a rocket.

There were exclamations over Gadget's headset as the others wondered what Mouseworthy was up to. Gadget knew and enlightened them.

"He's obviously developed a form of hyper-carbonation. Basically he's made the fizzy drink in those bottles super-fizzy. When released the pressure acts as a cold rocket thruster. It was discussed as a method of propulsion and discarded. Although with the right additives you get a specific impulse almost as great as dynamite, it has only a very short duration. He's using them as JATO units to speed up his take-off, though why he's using glass bottles…"

"Is it going to be a problem, time-wise?" asked Chip, as the marshal signaled the Rangerwing out onto the runway.

Gadget did some quick calculations, and got reassuring answers. "It does cut some of my advantage, but not enough to make the difference. But I think I'll go straight to 100 thrust right away."

"That's good. We'll see you at the overnight stop, okay? In the meantime keep in touch." In the background she could hear Monty talking to Tomodachi Island tower, then the Rangerwing lifted straight up, echoes of goodbyes and well wishing leaking through Chip's microphone.

Gadget soon followed, doing a conventional takeoff, just to keep in practice. Everything was running smoothly, and her GPS system made navigation easy, one of the reasons she could manage without a navigator. She quickly started to overhaul stragglers, taking care to pass well clear of them. Birds wearing WAAT colours were spotted at intervals, along with a couple of hovering toy helicopters in WAAT livery. Apart from occasional check-ins with the Rangerwing, she just lost herself in the enjoyment of flying.

It was only 20 minutes later that she spotted the island; 250 miles per hour really ate up the distance. It was more a barren atoll where two high poles with WAAT flags marked the first checkpoint and refueling station. This was little more than a flattened strip of dead coral, a wind turbine, and a couple of milk carton buildings. As she'd expected, when she passed between the widely spaced poles she could see vehicles charging up. Amongst them was the distinctive shape of the Cloudbuster, being refueled from a transparent tank, though Mouseworthy's support blimp was no-where to be seen. Obviously it had just dropped off the tank and gone on to the next checkpoint. It looked like the mouse himself had no part in this, and was relaxing in the sun on an easy chair while his flunkies did the sweating.

As she turned onto her new heading, she called on the radio. "Rangerwing, this is Screaming Eagle, I've just passed the first checkpoint, over." There was no response. "Rangerwing, Screaming Eagle, do you read!"

Chip's voice sounded after a second, to her relief. "Sorry Gadget, we were in the middle of something. Glad to hear from you. Over."

Gadget could hear the chipmunk was tense. "What's wrong?"

"I was just about to call. There's a rescue situation, and we're needed. It's the Golden Carp."

"Ohmigosh, I'll be there to help right away!" Even as she reached for the switch that would change her over to direction finder, Chip's voice came through clear. "NO! Stay on course, either the Rangerwing and the WAAT marshals can handle this, or no-one can. I'll keep you posted. Over." The return to radio discipline was deliberate.

Gadget started to protest, but realised Chip was making sense. "So what's happening?… Over." she asked.

"I'll try and fill you in before we arrive…" In quick, brief sentences, he outlined what had happened, minutes previously.

Since the Rangerwing could monitor two frequencies simultaneously, they had been tuned to the WAAT reserved emergency frequency, as well as the Screaming Eagle's. There had been nothing but occasional commands for nearby flyers from the marshals, until…

"Mayday, Mayday! This is the Golden Carp, WAAT 86 sending a mayday! We are… 35 kilometers past Checkpoint One on a bearing of 62 degrees and an altitude of 220 meters. We are losing pressure in several buoyancy chambers and can not sustain level flight. We have insufficient reserve gas to compensate for total deflation of the chambers, and may have to ditch." The Japanese-accented mousese sounded like Akane, the pilot.

Monty had flipped the call to the speakers by the second Mayday, so all five in the Rangerwing heard it.

Foxglove brought a wingtip to her mouth. "Oh my, we have to help them."

"On it!" said Chip. "Monty, figure an intercept course, using the boosters." He stayed on course, by his rough calculations the Golden Carp was not too far away, somewhere ahead of them. Another voice came on the frequency.

"This is Stage 2 air marshal, we have birds in the air heading for your position and we are scrambling a plane to make pickup, ETA 27 minutes from now. In the meantime all the marshals along your route will be notified. Over."

He waited a second, then spoke on the same frequency. "This is Rangerwing X, offering assistance. We are a supporting vessel and can be at the scene in…" He looked to Monty, who scribed '12' on the edge of the map. "…12 minutes. Over."

The air marshal replied. "Negative Rangerwing X. We have sufficient units…"

"Golden Carp here. We may need them, I don't think we'll be able to stay in the air for a full half hour. Over." Akane's voice was steady, but you could hear the worry behind it.

"Rangerwing to air marshal. The Rangerwing is a dedicated patrol and rescue craft with VTOL capability and manipulator arms, as well as an experienced rescue team on board. We can help."

There were a couple of seconds silence. Then the air marshal's voice came. "Roger that Rangerwing. Proceed to scene, and good luck. Over."

"Wilco. Out." Chip cut out his mike and sighed. If he'd been talking to Gadget he might have said Wilberry instead. "Well we're on. Course?"

"Heading 062 magnetic, Chip-lad." Monty had experience as a navigator back when he was travelling with Geegaw. Chip adjusted the course, and said, "I'll fly, you handle the boosters, okay?"

It was at this point that Gadget called and was filled in.

Dale was practically bouncing up and down. "Wowie zowie! A real rescue! And we get to use the big rockets. Ever since we pulled that stunt on that crook Thadeus, I wanted to know what it felt like."

The Rangerwing's landing gear could deploy as stork legs or as manipulator arms, and mount additional equipment such as booster rockets even while retracted, which was what they were carrying now. From either side of his back rest, Monty pulled down the pair of armatures that controlled the landing gear in manipulator arm mode, as well as the auxiliary system connectors. and locked them in place. Then he reached down into the well between the pilot seats, and flipped open a toothpaste cap mounted there. He flipped the three dip switches revealed, and noted the 3 mm LEDs, as big as a penlight, light up on each armature.

"The boostahs are linked together, and armed." Because the armatures were locked in place, the arms wouldn't unfold or move but the auxiliary connector were active, in this case the triggers for the strap on rockets and their releases. The first two dip switches were for continuity, connecting the firing and release mechanisms into the circuit. The third switch had cross linked them so pressing either armature button would trigger both. You couldn't use the main yoke while using the arms, which was why using the boosters or manipulators was a job for two people. There were foot pedals that acted as direct controls for the fans when using them, and in theory one could hover using the foot pedals while using the armatures to control the manipulator arms.

Meanwhile, Chip's grip on the yoke tightened slightly, and pushed the jet thrust up to 100. Gadget had flown the Wing when it used rockets during the "Baby Thadeus" case, and while she'd explained what to do, there hadn't been time or spare fireworks for test flights. "Check your seatbelts are tight…" Getting no negative responses back he said, "Okay, ready."

Monty "Hold on to yer hats, mates. This is going to kick like a kung-fu kangaroo! On me mark… Mark!" He slammed down the triggers, and nothing happened.

Dale looked disappointed. "Hey where's the…" Kaboom The Rangerwing suddenly shot forward like a rocket, which made sense if you thought about it. Each of the Rangers was embedded in their seats, which were vibrating.

"To..oo..ok aa..aa..aa sec..ond fo..oo..or th..ee fus..es to bu..uu..rn do..oo..wn." explained Chip.

The airspeed indicator indicated 280 knots, over 320 miles per hour, but clearly didn't expect to be believed. Chip veered slightly to avoid a bird that might have been in WAAT livery, but still passing close enough to leave it spinning in mid-air like a top. The reworked fireworks had some of Gadget's special additives, similar to the ones for her Homeguard system, that increased the thrust of the boosters to almost hyper-carbonation levels. They also had several times the duration, but they still burned out after about a hundred seconds.

Monty was feeling the back pressure in the armatures, and when it started to slacken, he called out, "Get ready to dump the boostahs!" Chip obediently dipped the nose, checking the area ahead was clear of unintentional targets. "Clear!" he yelled, and Monty pressed the release buttons. The two rockets, restraining pins retracted, shot off ahead of the Rangerwing on their own remaining thrust, and splashed into the sea. Chip brought the nose up and climbed on full jet thrust, trying to keep as much of the extra velocity as long as possible.

Dale was the first to speak. "Whoa! What a buggy ride!" He seemed none the worse for wear.

"Zhey!" Zipper popped out of the indentation in the seat back padding between Dale and Foxglove, which is where he'd been embedded by the initial thrust. He looked annoyed, while Foxy looked slightly green. Of course Zipper looked very green, but then he would.

"Hey sorry, Zipper, I didn't mean it that way. In fact, let's do it again!"

Foxglove gulped. "Only if you let me off first, darling."

"Zyoou zed id!" agreed Zipper.

"Foxy, are you okay?" Dale reached across to her. "But you hang upside down all night and like it!"

The girl bat breathed deeply, recovering her colour. "Upside down I can handle. Up and down… That's another matter! Oh, my, I feel like a milkshake."

"Great idea! Maybe we can get one when we're finished."

Foxy looked ill again at the thought. "Oooh… cute stuff, don't say that again unless you want more colours on your shirt."

Chip spoke up from the front. "We should be getting within visual range in about 5 minutes, so we need a strategy."

"Huh? I thought you had a plan!" said Dale.

Chip sighed, "Actually it was more of a reflex action. Someone in trouble, go to the rescue." He sighed. "Our suction cups and magnets will just bounce off the balloons, and the grappler hands will most likely puncture something, but we should be able to grip the big dorsal fin. On fans, we should be able to give them enough additional lift to make the next checkpoint. But I'm open to alternate suggestions." He was actually speaking over the cabin speakers so he didn't have to turn his head.

Foxglove spoke up. "Hmmm… It would be better if we could fix the leaks."

Monty shook his head. "I hate ta break it to ya luv, but we can't even detect 'em. Unless Gadget added something I don't know about to the Wing."

Dale's brow furrowed. "Maybe we don't need it. Helium makes your voice go higher, right? So if Zipper flew under the outer cover humming, and Foxy followed him listening to his buzz, she might be able to figure out where the leaks are. Can you do it, Foxy-mitten? Zipper, willing to have a go?"

"Dale, that's brilliant!… I can certainly try." The bat nodded. The fearless fly hummed his agreement.

Chip stated. "Then you need to remove the outer covering over the leak, without damaging the underlying tubes, and cover the entire area with a seal. We have Scotch tape and tools in the back…"

Dale interrupted. "I gotta better idea. Hamster Huey and the Goooey Kabloooie!"

Chip looked quizzical. "You really think you can pull that off, hovering in midair?"

Dale looked uncharacteristically serious. "I think I can, Chipper, if Foxy keeps me stable. You've gotta let me at least try!"

Chip realised this harked back to his little speech in the cargo hold. Here was a chance to practice what he preached and let Dale run his plan, his way. "Okay, do it. It may just be cuh-razy enough to work. Now we just need a way to expose the area."

Foxy spoke up. "I can manage that. But what's all this about gooey kablooies?"

"Zyeah." "Yeah, Dale-lad, what's the story?"

Dale just grinned. "It's one from a comic, and you'll see soon enough."

"I'd say roight now!" said Monty, pointing off to the front on his side. A golden speck was visible, and Chip turned towards it. It was uncomfortably low, only a few hundred feet above the waves. Smaller birds in WAAT livery were circling, but it was clear they couldn't do anything.

Chip pawed the radio to the emergency frequency as they flew past and ahead, coming in a wide circle.

"Rangerwing to Golden Carp, we have you in visual range. Over."

"We see you, Rangerwing. Chip, thank you for coming. You have room for us? Over."

"Hopefully that won't be needed. We have a plan to stop your leaks, but we may have to damage the outer fabric. Over."

There was a short pause, then Akane said, "If we ditch it will be a total loss. Do what you must, but do it fast. Over."

"We're on it. Out."

Chip was already making preparations. He flipped switches as he talked. "Monty, after we let off the others, we'll stand ready to help, so stay on the grappler arms, okay?"

"Roight Chippah!" The transparent canopy opened, sliding down into the sides of the Rangerwing like roll- down car windows. The smell of the sea and sun-warmed air hit them fully for the first time, overwhelming the rather plastic, new car smell of the recently rebuilt interior.

"Arming ejectors on seats three and four. Make sure your seatbelts are off, and your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position!"

Dale undid his seat belt, then reached down underneath his seat and pulled out a pair of red gumballs, and pouched them in his cheeks. He looked to Foxy, who had removed her seatbelt and Zipper, resting in her lap, and got thumbs-up and wingtip-up in return.

"'eady 'o 'o 'ere!" came his slightly muffled voice.

"Then Rescue Rangers, Away!" Chip twisted and pulled the eject lever, and the two back seats sprung up out of the plane, carrying Dale, Foxglove and Zipper with them. As the seats retracted on springs, Dale's bat-glider unfolded, and the trio drifted down towards the stricken blimp.

The Rangerwing was windward of the Golden Carp at the time, to make it easier for the glider and the others to get there. Chip had decided against going overhead and grabbing the dorsal fin, because, now he could estimate the dimensions, a bit of the down-blast from the jets would hit the dirigible itself, and the airflow would make it more hazardous for Dale and the others.

"Akane, please bring your vehicle around to face the wind. Dale, Foxglove and Zipper need to move back and forth along your hull." He explained Dale's idea. "Dale's running this show, we're here as back-up. Over."

"Roger, I'm sending Shippo out on a cable to help. Over."

Meanwhile, the trio of flyers dipped down. Zipper disappeared into a gap in the outer skin just by the dorsal fin while Dale was holding off and chewing with all his might, using the crosswind to hover in place. Foxglove flew in just above the area Zipper was and listened. Zipper swept back and forth along the covered valleys between the buoyancy tubes, Foxglove tracking him closely.

"It's definitely the front end…. About here!" Foxglove pointed to a front panel. "We need to remove it."

Shippo scrambled forward on all fours, holding tightly to the outer fabric. He wore a headset that connected to the cable around his waist. "Lucky! Is under the access panel."

Foxglove landed on fabric where a buoyancy chamber didn't press against it, foot claws digging in. She exclaimed, "Then remove it quickly! Zipper's buzz is getting weak!"

The pair pulled back the cloth panel, to reveal a downed fly. "I'll 'et 'im!" Dale called through a mouthful of chewing gum and dived, sweeping across the upper surface of the blimp and plucking Zipper neatly from his resting place.

"Was too much helium." Shippo called. Fortunately the green fly quickly recovered once out in fresh air, and flew off on his own, to join the others resting on the outer skin just behind the panel.

"'Ow it's 'y 'urn." Dale called. "'old it 'eady 'iving 'in'o 'e 'ind, 'ut 'low."

Foxglove translated. "He said to hold it steady, driving into the wind, but slowly." Shippo repeated the instructions and the dirigible turned until the wind was streaming from directly in front of them.

Dale vectored around to hover just in front of the blimp, facing down. He started to blow a bubble.

"Is not doing what I think?" exclaimed Shippo.

"Don't worry, Dale's an expert bubble blower, and an expert glider." said Foxglove, but flapped her way up to grab his shoulders with her feet and steady him as the drag from the bubble grew. A sudden gust blew them backwards, past the dorsal fin and over the moving tail, almost rupturing the bubble, which was almost as big as they were. If it exploded, not only would he not be able to save the dirigible, but with his controls and possibly Foxy's wings gummed up they might fall into the sea themselves.

Dale was trying to stabilise his glider without bursting the bubble, when something grabbed his waist. Most of his vision was taken up by the bubble, but his peripheral vision could see Foxglove caught in the Rangerwing's other manipulator arm claw. He heard Chip's voice from behind him over the external speakers.

"We moved around back in case you needed a backstop. We'll get you back in position, you just blow that thing so we can all go home." Chip was as good as his word, maneuvering the glider-borne chipmunk right over the exposed area. Dale motioned downwards and Monty lowered the manipulator arm until the far side of the bubble just touched the edge of the exposed area. Then Dale quite deliberately bit down, bursting the bubble.

Normally a bubble ruptures on the weakest, far side and it blows back, giving the classic bubble-gum face-pack. But this one went the other way, coating the entire exposed area in a seamless layer of gum. Shippo concentrated on Akane's voice in his earphones and then smiled broadly. "Leaking has stopped!"

Chip's voice came from the speakers. "We're not out of trouble yet! Look to your right!"

Everybody quickly saw the problem. All this time the dirigible had been drifting downwards. Now it was only a few feet above the waves and it's own momentum was taking it still further down. Nor was the sea calm; there was some kind of submerged reef, and the waves were breaking high over it. Even now, one had crested as high as the Golden Carp, and was surging towards the Rangerwing, ready to engulf them!

****

Station break – Water way to go….

Almost immediately Chip yelled out over the speakers, "Dale, Loop de loop!", as the mechanical arms that held the red nosed chipmunk and his batty belle, suddenly flung them up and backwards. Dale realised what he was on about. "Follow my lead!" he called to Foxglove. At the top of his backwards arc he tumbled and spun in a loop while the wave passed underneath them, swamping the Rangerwing momentarily. Then out of the spray it rose, fans screaming. Fortunately only the peak of the wave, a thin curtain of water, had hit it and broken up. Dale and Foxy hovered above, watching the drama below.

The Golden Carp had been swamped, but rose to the surface immediately, impelled by the balloons. However it was stuck to the wave surface. As The Rangerwing spun around, the grappler hands folded back into the forearm pods, and out popped a pair of plungers. Swinging down and back, they fired and stuck to the one rigid part of the front of the dirigible, the cockpit window. The Rangerwing's jet added its thrust, carefully avoiding the dirigible, and the force pulled the blimp free. The pair soared into the sky, and the Rangerwing canopy split open invitingly. Dale and Foxy dropped in side by side, Dale pressing the button that retracted his glider wings as he fell.

Monty was nervous, almost panicking. "Have ya seen Zippah? Me little pally was still down there when the wave came!" The arms that had launched the harpoons were facing in the right direction, and Monty was using the targeting cameras to scan the surface of the dirigible for Zipper. Shippo was hanging on to the upper surface, looking like a drowned squirrel, but Zipper was not to be seen.

"Aww, I'm sure Zipper's okay. The little guy's got what it takes," Dale said, but felt slightly worried himself. After all it had been his plan.

Foxglove quickly said, "I thought I saw something on top of the dorsal fin…"

Monterey panned the camera upwards, and there he was. Holding right on the top of the dorsal fin, wings pumping frantically, Zipper was adding his own contribution to raising the Golden Carp, and it looked like he was hauling it up out of the water all by himself.

Dale snickered, partly with relief. "Gives a new meaning to the term 'fly fishing' doesn't it!"

Chuckles ensued. Monty hauled back on the armatures, drawing the cables back. "Knew me pally would be alright. Of course this is nothing compared to the time we hooked a hundred pound marlin off Queensland. Had to say sorry to the poor bloke, a cheese ship had lost some deck cargo in a storm and I was after that…"

Chip meanwhile contacted the Carp. "Is everything okay over there? Over."

There was jubilation in Akane's response. "We're fine! We pressurised some of the interior balloons and we should easily make it to tonight's resting point. We can get someone to bring one of our big tanks from Tomodachi, and repair materials. Over."

"That's good. Is Shippo okay?"

"Are you talking to Akane?" Dale asked. Chip nodded as he listened to Akane's response. "They're both fine. Shippo's soaked, but says something about not letting a bubble-gum crisis become a bubble-gum crash, whatever that means."

Dale and Foxglove both groaned.

Chip closed the conversation with the Carp by checking it was safe to release the suction cups, and come along side to retrieve Zipper. As they did, Dale smacked a fist into a paw. "Oh yeah, I gotta tell them something. After a couple of hours the gum will go hard and start to peel. They have to be ready to put more Scotch tape on by then."

"I'll let them know… more Scotch tape?"

"Uhh. Yeah, there were a couple of pieces already there. Why?"

Chip shook his head, "It may be nothing… Anyway, looks like your plan worked."

"Hey, what did you expect. I am a master of the sticky side of the food source, as well as the deep fried…"

Chip gave a mock grimace, and said playfully. "If this is leading to the phrase, 'It binds the galaxy together', just remember I'm up front and I still have access to your ejector seat control."

Dale immediately started looking around and whistling innocently, and the Rangerwing shot off ahead of the Golden Carp. Chip talked to Akane, giving her Dale's news, then got on Gadget's channel and brought her up to date, switching her to cabin speakers.

Gadget's voice was slightly wistful. "Golly, I wish I could have helped. Over."

"You did. We'd never have been able to do this rescue if it hadn't been for the unsurpassed quality and ingenuity of your inventions. Your plane put us here in time to help, and could actually do something once it got here. You were here in spirit, because your spirit is in every invention you build."

"Oh Chip, that's such a sweet thing to say."

"It's also the truth." From around him the others added vocal endorsements.

&

They easily made it to the first day's resting point in time to see the Screaming Eagle pass through the finishing hoop. Gadget was already on the ground and greeting them when the Cloudbuster tore through. This island was smaller than Tomodachi, but rockier, and clearly volcanic. Having seen that the Rangerwing was being recharged, and set up the camp, they took the rest of the afternoon off.

The remains of breakfast were taken with them as a picnic lunch, and they explored the island. There were long white sand beaches of ground down coral, and a towering basalt spire that jutted out of the sea at the far end of the island. Further evidence of the volcanic nature of the place were numerous hot springs, a few already occupied by other teams. The vegetation was verdant, and gave shade during the warm afternoon. They'd intended to play on the beach, so they had swimming costumes with them. Instead, Dale suggested they try out an empty hot spring he found while searching off the path for buried treasure.

The water bubbled up into a hot pool, etched into the side of a rocky pumice hill. This flowed over into a lower and cooler but still quite warm basin on three sides, forming a crescent shaped pool. It was screened by greenery, which made an excellent impromptu changing room for the girls. Meanwhile the guys made do. Chip and Dale were splashing around in the lower basin with a ping pong ball, while Zipper had appropriated a leaf as a floating sun-bed, and was working on his tan (which would of course just be a darker green, but then each to their own).

Meanwhile, Monty had clambered up to the higher pool, and was standing on the edge. "Roight lads! Now Ol' Monterey will show you how 'e won the All Australian High Diving tournament!" So saying, he took a mighty leap off the edge and cannon-balled right into the middle of the pool, causing a modest tidal-wave.

It subsided to leave two drenched looking chipmunks. Zipper and his leaf sat on Chip's head like a rather avant-garde hat. They both spluttered and Chip came out with, "How? By submerging the judges until they agreed to make you winner?"

"Now lads, in Australian High Diving it's the biggest splash that counts."

Dale smirked as he shook his head, spraying water on Chip and Zipper. "Not the biggest drip ? Then Chip'd win for sure."

Chip growled playfully. "How'd ya like to learn how to breath underwater, the hard way… ay… ay…"

The reason for his sudden loss of speech was the arrival of Gadget. Rather than the pink tutu bathing suit she usually wore, she had on a modest but attractive one piece with a fitted tail hole, in lavender of course.

Zipper hovered in front of the frozen chipmunk and waved a hand in front of his eyes. "Zo boy!"

"What do you think guys? Foxglove saw it on one of the market stalls in the plaza and said it would suit me."

"Wowie zowie, I'll say!" Dale managed.

"Of course I've still got to add some loops so I can carry a spanner… What's wrong with Chip?"

Monty grinned. "I think Chippah agrees too…"

This broke Chip out of his trance. "Uh… Of course, you're… I mean it's beautiful."

Dale grinned and patted Chip on the back, looking around. "C'mon Chip stop over-react… SHARK!"

Everybody looked in the direction Dale was, where a sinister triangular fin was cutting it's way straight through the water towards him. Dale's reaction was remarkably restrained. He jumped straight out of the water and started running on top, but before he could pick up much speed, the shape was upon him and burst out of the water, engulfing him.

"Hiya cutie! Do you like my new black swimsuit?" Foxglove, for it was she, having swum underwater with one wingtip above the surface, snuzzled the red nosed chipmunk.

"Foxy!" Dale burst out laughing, "Oh that was a good one!" He returned her hug with fervor, then looked her up and down. "Wow! You look amazing!" Her suit was a more daring one piece, that hugged her in all the right places, much as Dale was doing.

"Ah, guys…" Gadget was in the water and looking up at them. "Since when could you stand on water?"

The pair looked down and realised they were still standing on the surface. They looked up at each other. "We can't!" they chorused as they splashed back down. The group was still laughing when a new voice intruded.

"Ah, it's the Whacked-wrench team." came a familiar voice. Mouseworthy appeared at the edge of the pools, flanked by twin goons, both wearing his livery.

Chip glowered. "Ha ha, it is to laugh." he said in disdainful tones. "Come to concede defeat? Gadget handily wiped the floor with you today."

The mouse growled. "Ha! I've not even begun to show my true power! Mark my words, I'll win this yet, and not all your tricksy, gimicky… gadgets will save you!"

Monty stirred from his semi-float. "Yer pond scum, you two bit tinkerer. An' that sounds loike a threat. I suggest you take tweedle-dum and tweedle-dumber over there and go find someone else ta annoy."

Chip nodded. "Yep, you're not quite dim enough to start something now. After all there's a very slim chance you might get lucky in the race. Attack us and you're out on your pointy ears."

For a moment it looked like he was going to order his goons to attack anyway, but then he simply sneered, addressing Gadget. "I just wanted you to know that all your efforts will be futile, and all your hopes will be dashed. At the finish, I shall be laughing, and you will be humiliated."

"Huh, not while I can still hold a control yoke or turn a wrench." Gadget responded. "I'm a better pilot, and a better engineer to boot, and I have friends that believe in me. You have nothing but money and hatred."

"Hah!" Mouseworthy sneered again. He waved his cane and his two goons turned to go.

Dale said rapidly in American TV show announcer style, "And there goes our latest contestant… Let's give him a big wave!" He spread his arms wide, and everyone caught on. As one they surged forward, pushing Dale and Foxglove towards Mouseworthy. His arms and her wings scooped up a lot of water and slooshed it all over the mouse as he left.

"Why you…!" He turned and raged, but the Rangers were standing together, so he just turned and stalked away

&

They returned to camp, a couple of hours later, tired but refreshed and happy. The Golden Carp had arrived, and the Rangers went over went over to see how things were. Professor Chinou was there with some of the Nekomi Tech ground staff. They'd hitched a ride on a WAAT cargo transport with repair equipment.

"Ah, Hackwrench-sensei, I must thank your team again for saving our ship." The suffix sensei meant 'master', and was usually reserved for a teacher, doctor or scientist. By giving Gadget that honorific the older mouse was paying her a great complement.

"Golly, Chinou-sensei, that what the Rescue Rangers do. But I personally had the least to do with it, it's the others you should be thanking."

"I intend to. We have already made repairs and refilled the damaged chambers. But there is a disturbing development."

Chip frowned. "It's the tape that was on the balloons isn't it?"

"How could you know about that?" Chinou's voice had turned harsh.

"Sorry, professor, but Dale noticed when he was blowing bubbles. I'm guessing your people didn't put it there?"

Chinou relaxed a bit. "Indeed. Forgive me, it was a bit of a shock. It was not in an obvious location, you would need to be right overhead to see down to where it is, but it is there. Careful examination showed there were small pinholes in it that went through into the chambers."

Chip nodded grimly. "Sabotage, a slow leak with the tape there to stop the pinholes from rupturing. And since that cover was the access point to the balance sensor and the pumps, anyone who did work up there must be considered a suspect, which includes Gadget."

That got an explosion from everyone. "Lad, ya can't…" "I had no intention of accusing…" "Oh,my…" "Chipper, your hat's on too tight!" "Chip, you saw…"

Chip held up both paws. "I just had to get it out in the open. I personally know Gadget could never consider such a thing, and I was there the whole time she was working, so I can confirm she never touched the Scotch tape. But then I'm hardly an impartial witness."

He gritted his teeth. "We need to figure out who did it, through means, motive and opportunity. Professor, was there any group who would not want you to succeed with your vessel enough to pull a stunt like this?"

Chinou shook his head. "No… while it is fairly revolutionary, it is not like it is a matter of putting other dirigible makers out of business. Remember, we are talking about craftsmen, small teams, not big companies. Besides, they will be able to use our design once we publish it, for a nominal fee."

"So no economic justification… A personal attack, against you as the designer, or to harm Akane-kun or Shippo-kun?"

"I have no personal enemies, at least none that would risk killing people to get back at me. I do not know everything about my crew's lives, but it seems unlikely, since they would most likely survive, even if the Carp had ditched. However I will call them over." He did so. As they were coming, Chip continued.

"I've got another idea, but I need to work on it some more. Opportunity next. When could the sabotage have taken place?"

The professor looked puzzled. "It couldn't, that's what's so puzzling. Shippo made a pre-flight inspection before the time-trial, and again just before the start of the race. He shouldn't have missed it."

"We can ask him ourselves, here he is now."

Neither Akane or Shippo could think of any enemies who might sabotage the Carp, but when it came to discussing the flight inspection, Shippo started looking nervous. Chip quickly picked up on this. Shippo soon admitted that while he'd made a full inspection before the time trials, and after, he'd skimped this morning's. A rather cute squirrelette had gotten talking to him, and been very admiring. By the time he'd had a chance to finish, it was too late. He hadn't thought it important, since the vessel had a thorough check the night before.

Chip mused. "Anyone want to bet that squirrel was a deliberate plant? So the sabotage must have taken place that night after the party. But how? The runway was patrolled… Chalk up another mystery. Maybe means will help figure this out. How could you set those holes to appear in the tape when it was already in the air…?"

Gadget spoke up first. "You could paint it with wax during the night, and when they got up in the air and were using the temperature differential in the inter-space the heat would melt it, or you could hire a stinging insect to act at the right time, or use a slow chemical reaction that would eat away at the plastic film and create the pinholes…." She noticed everyone looking at her. "It's an interesting challenge… I'm sure I could come up with plenty of other ways."

Chip frowned. "Too many ways. If only I had some proper tools I could check for traces… So we have sabotage, by a person unknown, for reasons unknown, by a method unknown. Everything else is obvious." The last was said in an exasperated tone.

Dale chipped in, "Aww, I bet you figure it all out before the next station break."

Chip shook his head. "This isn't some cartoon, but you're partly right. I'm going to… we're going to try. The Rescue Rangers are officially on the case! Professor, thanks for not getting the WAAT officials involved."

Professor Chinou replied, "I thought you would prefer it. After all, as you said, they might think Gadget-san was a suspect. I have every confidence that you will find the answer."

Chip did a personal inspection of the patched balloon, but found nothing new. The strawberry and banana bubble-gum smell still clung, but any physical evidence had been removed by the repairs. It was a subdued group who returned to their own camp site, with Chip deep in thought. After dinner he suggested, "Let's set up watches, just to be on the safe side."

Monterey was raking over the ashes of their cooking fire. "But Chippah, Gadget needs a good night's sleep to be ready for tomorrow."

Chip nodded. "I was about to say, Gadget should be exempt. But I think between the rest of us there's enough people to stand a watch and give everybody a fair night's sleep. After all we don't leave until late morning, having the fastest times."

Dale looked excited as he worried the remains of a hazelnut and garlic cheese pocket. "Neato! I'll take first watch. No one will get to our planes the way they did the Carp!"

Foxglove spoke up next, then Zipper. "And I'll take over from Dale." "Zen mee!"

Gadget asked. "But why? Do you have some idea who attacked the Golden Carp and why he would come after us?"

Chip shook his head. "Just a nasty suspicious hunch, and that might just be because I don't like the guy."

Monty filled it in. "Mouseworthy! But why would that bucktoothed, bandy-legged bozo attack the Golden Carp? It's Gadget who he's got the beef with."

Chip sighed, "That's the problem! As a test run for us, to discredit Gadget, even to try and make Gadget divert to help, none of the explanations make sense if you examine them in detail! There were too many holes. All I know is, I'll sleep safer knowing we're watching our own planes."

A figure approached the campsite, lit by the fire and the external lights of the Rangerwing.

"I hope I am not intruding." It was a mouse girl with emerald green eyes and dark fur. She was carrying a backpack.

The group was surprised, but it was Monty who voiced it. "Kimiko-chan? What're you doing here?"

The mouse girl stepped up close to the group, stumbling slightly. "I caught the last cargo flight across from Tomodachi. After the race finishes, we won't have much time before we have to go our separate ways. I just wanted to spend as much of the time remaining with you as possible. I thought maybe we could go for a walk along the beach, maybe climb the spire and watch the moon rise. I brought Stilton filled rice balls." Her big emerald eyes pleaded from behind her glasses.

Monty was torn, remembering the watch duties. "Well, I don't know lass. I've got to help out here…"

Chip shook his head. "It's okay. Go have your fun. We'll take care of things here." The others quickly endorsed it.

Monty accepted with alacrity, even if he didn't know what it meant. The two of them quickly went off arm in arm. Zipper stayed behind watching them until they got out of sight.

As they moved away, Foxglove sighed and snuggled into Dale's shoulder. "It's so sweet. I think she really likes him."

"Yeah, everyone deserves some happiness." Dale noticed Chip was staring wistfully at Gadget, and of course Gadget was staring at the embers of the fire deep in thought and utterly missed it.

&

As they walked towards the beach, arm in arm, Monty and Kimiko shared a companionable silence. They'd talked often enough over the past few days, and gotten to know each other well enough, that Monty didn't feel the need to fill the space up with random small talk. Clearly Kimiko felt the same way.

Now Monty was not normally the most introspective of people but he was currently wrestling with a problem, namely what to do about Kimiko. While he'd had his share of 'romantic entanglements', they'd all been things of the moment, two people having fun, and knowing it wouldn't last beyond his next trip. That was excepting Desiree, but the less he thought about her, the better. But here, with Kimiko, he'd found something he wanted to keep. He'd always assumed that if there was a girl out there for him, she'd be as tough and adventurous as he was. But on the few occasions where he'd met someone like that, they'd gone their separate ways, sometimes sooner, sometimes later.

He'd never have thought a quiet, stay at home librarian could be his type, but there was just something about her… well he couldn't pin it down, but when he was around her, it felt like all the adventures he'd ever been on, rolled into one. But the telling point, the one that scared him slightly, was that when he was around her, his cheese attacks didn't happen. He'd walked past open air stalls selling cheeses from all over the world, something that would normally have had him reaching for his emergency sachet of limburger, but when with Kimiko, he just felt a mild craving. Could it be he'd found something more important than the perfect wedge?

While not a deductive type thinker, he was experienced and had his own type of wisdom. It came down to a few telling points. Was this the real thing, what Dale and Foxy so clearly felt for each other, and might be springing up between Chip and Gadget? Was it something that would last, something beyond the excitement and adventure of discovering each other? He thought it might be, and that Kimiko might feel the same way. But that just opened up what to do about it.

Although he'd settled down after a fashion when he'd joined the Rangers he still adventured as much or even more, though the adventures now came to him. If he went to live with Kimiko, could he settle down to a non-adventuring life? With the best will in the world he didn't think so. Then there was Zipper, who'd either come with him, leaving a place where he was appreciated and needed to be with a friend who might change, or stay and help the Rangers, probably never seeing Monty again.

He'd not really thought of kids or a family, but in a way that's how he felt about Zipper, and the rest of the Rangers for that matter. Not that it stopped him from appreciating them as the best pallies a bloke could ever have, but with it came a feeling he was like their uncle, someone they could turn to. As far as Gadget was concerned, it went a bit deeper. With Geegaw gone, he did his best to be a substitute father. He enjoyed the chipmunks' scrappy determination, Foxglove's gentleness and joy in life, and of course Zipper's eternal can do attitude.

It showed the depth of his feelings for Kimiko that he was even considering leaving the only place he'd really called home since he left Australia. The alternative was to ask Kimiko to come live with the Rangers, but that had as many problems. Could she adapt to America, and more importantly the Ranger lifestyle. It was one thing to listen, however eagerly, to tales of adventure, and another to actually go on them. Her clutziness wouldn't exactly help either.

Or if she stayed out of the adventures, wouldn't she feel like a spare wheel? Maybe she could help with the ever increasing paperwork load at HQ, or find employment in one of the city's small animal libraries, but he wasn't sure he could ask her to give up everything she'd known and follow him half way around the world. He sighed. They were almost at the beach, passing through heavy undergrowth, and Kimiko suddenly let go of his arm and said, "Why such a deep sigh, Monty-kun. Maybe I'm too boring, just walking along?" she said in a joking tone. "Race you to the beach!" She dived off ahead, ignoring Monty's cry of, "Watch out Kimi-chan!"

She vanished into the growth ahead, crashing sounds diminishing in the distance. Looked like she was in a playful mood, which was normally great fun for him too. However in this case he was worried she might trip, or run into something nasty. He quickened his pace, beating his way forward and trying to find the beach. He burst out onto the white sand, gleaming in the moonlight, but Kimiko was nowhere to be seen.

"Hoi, Kimiko! Fun's fun lass, but you shouldn't be out here alone!"

He moved out onto the beach to almost the waters edge, where a falling tide had left rippled ridges about half a mouse's height. He was careful to watch for crabs and other buried denizens the tide might have left behind. He looked up and down the beach, deserted except for himself. Maybe she'd gotten turned around in the greenery. He felt a slight prick in one arm, like the mosquitoes they'd faced in South America, and looked around for them, curious that he'd heard no buzzing.

Then his legs gave way concertina fashion and he slumped down, resting against a dune. His arms suddenly felt as heavy as lead, and he barely moved one over the 'sting' before they gave out altogether. He'd snagged it in barely motile digits and pulled it out, noting it was a wooden blow dart. Natives? Here? From what he'd heard the islands were uninhabited until the WAAT set up their bases.

Then a figure approached out of the greenery (though currently it was more dark greyish greenery) at the edge of the beach. For a second he had the crazy idea it was Foxglove or Dale in costume, but this figure, though wrapped in the almost black, close fitting clothing of a ninja gennin or footsoldier, was moving with a soundless, easy glide, that indicated he was the real thing. Make that kunoichi (female ninja), he thought as she got closer and the curves in her figure became apparent.

A mouse or possibly a small rat he thought, noting the slender, elegant tail. Who could she be working for? Mouseworthy, maybe? Possibly he and Kimiko would be ransomed against Gadget losing the race. That sounded just like the dirty drongo's style. He tried to speak but it came out slurred.

"Yer boss won't get away wi' this! Mouseworthy's a roight scumbag, and me pallies will find us before you can say 'Waltzin' Matilda'. Not 'at I care what 'appens to me, but if you've 'urt Kimiko, I'll pull yer arms off and beat yer to death wi' ' em, lady or no."

The figure now stood in front of him, and for the first time the moonlight illuminated the eyes that stared at him from the space in the cloth hood. They were a brilliant emerald.

"Thank you for your concern, however misplaced, Monterey Jack. I wish it were that simple. But I'm afraid my reason for being here is to complete a mission that goes back to before either of us was born. My task is to kill you, or die trying."

The voice confirmed what he'd seen in the eyes, and it stunned him for a second. He whispered, in an incredulous tone. "Kimiko?"

****

Station Break - The plot thickens and congeals… and in the next part we get into high gear!

Kimiko stood over Monty like a conqueror. It was her, despite the fact her clutziness had utterly vanished, and her padding must have been merely padding, since she no longer carried as many ounces. However, her voice and eyes were the same, and they held a hint of… regret?

"Yes, you deserve to know, though I'm surprised you haven't guessed."

She folded seamlessly into seiza kneeling position, but from her poised posture it was clear she was ready to move in an instant.

"I am the last member of the Gengetsu Crescent Moon shinobi clan. We are ancient, dating back to the Muromachi period, when we protected gleaners among the rice harvests from the ronnin bandit cats that started to swarm the land. For centuries we stalked those who would harm our kind from the shadows. My grandfather came to power as Jonnin leader just before the start of the Pacific war, when it seemed that our traditions were faltering under human industrialisation and all the changes that brought to human and small animal society.

"To save our clan, my grandfather made overtures to a human in Japanese Army Intelligence, an ex-Shinto priest and a known Speaker. Our clan would take on covert missions for the Japanese army in return for a place in the new Japanese Empire that would spring from their conquests. Not everyone agreed with his plans, but the majority followed him, as loyal ninja should.

"Throughout the Pacific war, we performed many tasks, information gathering, sabotage, even assassinations. But there was opposition, the British OSI had Speakers too, and they recruited small animal agents from all over their Commonwealth into ASARAS, Allied Small Animal Reconnaissance and Sabotage. Two of their top agents were Cheddarhead and Camembert, also known as Charles and Kate Colby…" She was watching his eyes as she said this. "You did not know." It was not a question.

Monty hoped to keep her talking. The black, sticky stuff had to be curare, or maybe some similar muscle relaxant, possibly derived from some marine source. Once in the bloodstream it affected the high blood demand large voluntary muscles most efficiently, rendering a victim helpless, but not unconscious. Monty hoped his natural toughness and high muscle mass would allow him to shake off the effects faster than she expected, though what he'd do once he could move, he wasn't sure.

"No lass, me mum and dad never said, except that they'd taken an oath of secrecy about their part in it. It sounded loike there were some bonzer stories, but they never told me 'em."

"How honourable." She actually seemed to mean that. "They foiled many of my grandfathers greatest schemes, defeated many groups of gennin foot soldiers and in general did more to thwart our cause than a battalion of Allied troops. In many ways, they were the ASARAS as far as my grandfather was concerned. In the last days of the war, when Japan faced defeat and courted surrender, my grandfather decided the only way to reverse things was to focus on assassinating key personnel, like your parents, and humans among the Allied command.

"In August of 1945 he brought together the entire clan to our main meeting house in Hiroshima, to plan the operation code-named Kurokaze Darkwind. However, the Americans acted first. In the aftermath of the bomb, many of the clan were struck with varying degrees of radiation sickness, and more importantly despair, when it became clear the radiation had made every clan member sterile, or worse. Mice are, after all, even more susceptible to radiation than humans. The clan fell apart, and grandfather was left with only a few of his most loyal chunin lieutenants.

"Even though his followers were few, he still tried to implement Darkwind, but it was a disaster. The team sent against your parents never returned, and almost none of the other targets were accomplished. With less than a half dozen with him, all older chunnin, he decided that a long term plan would be needed. But that needed new trainees and there would be none. There was only one possibility for continuing the clan, and he devoted all his remaining resources to pursuing that possibility."

Monty made the obvious comment. "You."

"Just so. My grandmother had been the most capable kunoichi of her generation, and her children could be expected to be as talented. She was one of the ones who disagreed with the plans of my grandfather, and eventually fled, taking her youngest daughter with her. She was good enough to elude the searches of the rest of the clan, and her daughter, my mother, grew up away from the clan, and lived a normal enough life. I was born in 1964, unaware of my heritage. My grandfather found me when I was eight, and exercised his ancient right as head of the clan to take me away and train me as shinobi."

Monty gasped. "Croikey, at eight years old? That's cruel!"

"But necessary. He and his chunnin were growing old, and they had much to teach me. He renamed me Kurokaze, in memory of the clan's suffering. I was not a good student at first, wanting my old life back, but I was taught to guard against such weakness." Almost unconsciously she rubbed her paw against her flank, leaving Monty in no doubt as to how the teaching was accomplished, and why he'd never seen her in a bathing suit.

"I learned to be proud of my heritage, and trained hard to become the best I could. After I turned 18 and became a full ninja, I was sent on numerous missions to retrieve lost clan artifacts, and hunt down information on our enemies. Then, five years ago, they finally deemed me ready for the ultimate challenge. Grandfather was the only one left, and he was dying. But his spirit was as strong as ever.

"He'd discovered that you had been born, and conceived a plan to avenge our clan's destruction with the destruction of your family. I was to seek you out and kill you by whatever means necessary, then carry the news to each of your parents and kill them in their grief. Only then would our clan's souls be at peace. His last words were 'A ninja's life is in death.' I was to accomplish my mission, or die trying.

"And so began my search, and it was a long one. I traveled to many places, always searching for news of your whereabouts. While I heard many wild stories of your deeds, I could never catch up with you, or find out where you were going next. I learned of your presence at the last Trials long after the fact, and when I finally pursued your association with Geegaw Hackwrench, I found you had separated from him on the island of Zanzibar, and he had no idea where you were.

"You met up with me mate Geegaw?", Monty said, surprised.

"I was just a person who hired his plane for a trip, as far as he was concerned. A most estimable person, and I put the worst possible interpretation on your abandoning him. It was as if you had died after that, I hunted for over a year and a half without picking up any new traces."

Monty sighed. In one of their meetings, the subject of Geegaw had come up, and he'd found himself telling her the story of Zanzibar, something he'd never even told Zipper. "I told ya my side of what happened. I didn't have a choice, no matter how bad it might 'ave looked. I guess I did lay low for a bit after that, was kind of a penance fer me."

"I understand, now. I scoured the world for over a year and a half to try and pick up your trail. Just when you seemed to be on the move again, you vanished. I believe now that was when you joined the Rescue Rangers. That once again threw me off your trail, I was looking for a mouse and fly on their own, and you weren't mentioned by name in the first few tales I heard. It wasn't until I overheard the name Hackwrench in association with them that things started coming together.

"Seven months ago I was sure that you were a part of that group, and the obvious thing would have been to come to America and make an attempt there. But you were on what was now your home territory, and surrounded by a team that had something of a reputation. I could not afford to attack and fail, as the other teams did against your parents. Instead I came up with a more cautious plan, when I heard the WAAT would be held here. I knew that Gadget would come, and it was a fair bet that you would follow her.

"I set up my 'Kimiko' identity with the express purpose of being in the right place to be part of the convention. I even used my original name as an alias to make it feel more real. I spent months insinuating myself into the staff of a library where the manager was a part of the WAAT steering committee, and setting up the conditions that would make them make me go. I would meet you by accident, get to know you and your team, assess the possibilities before striking. I based her on my estimates of your personality, which at the time were none too flattering. You appeared to be a mouse ruled by your appetites, living for the moment, a homeless vagabond interested only in the next piece of cheese, someone I could remove without undue qualms.

"At the time I had no idea what you knew of me or my mission, so I created a thorough, long term disguise. The clumsiness, the glasses, the additional weight were all carefully judged to make myself superficially less attractive, and less of a threat. I couldn't count on you coming after me, and if a beautiful woman had started throwing herself at you, you might have been suspicious, especially if I had moved as I normally do. But a 'mousy' librarian, with a head full of adventure stories and innocence would be an easy target for the sort of person I imagined you to be, someone you could lead along, have some fun with, then leave without regret."

Monty found his fingers were tingling, but did not try and move them. "Sounds loike you 'ad a pretty low opinion of me."

"Years of conditioning to hate anything associated with the Colby name had something to do with it, and the fact I'd met up with plenty of those kinds of male in my travels. I dealt with such creatures appropriately." She noticed Monty's expression change. "No, not by assassination, they weren't my target." Something in her eyes and voice suggested humour. "I allowed them to entice me, and when I was sure of their true intentions, I rendered them unconscious and made sure to hang them up by their tails from the nearest tree, with a suitable sign about their nature in the local language."

Monty couldn't help but chuckle. "That sounds loike fun." Then he turned more serious. "So everything you did, all the things we shared, that was all just part of your cover?"

"No!" The black clad mouse caught herself and went on. "Why couldn't you have been like I imagined? A lowlife slob who's crude advances I'd cleverly parry while planning your doom. I was prepared to be nice to you that first dinner, no matter how grabby and annoying you were, but you weren't. You were a gentleman, and a wonderful dinner companion. I enjoyed myself more that first night we had together than I had any since my eighth birthday.

"I'd carefully trained to suppress any unnecessary sentiment, anything that would impair my efficiency, but with you it didn't work. I could no longer hate the real person, rather than my carefully built up fantasy figure. Each day we've had together I've enjoyed more and more. I tried to make those days as happy as possible, because I knew it would all end. How I wish they didn't have to."

Monty saw an opening. "Ya don't have to lass. I won't say yer grandfather was wrong to carry out what he believed was his duty durin' the war, or even how he carried it out. War is a roight nasty business, However you go about it. But he did one terrible thing after the war, and that was taking you from your family and turning you into nothing more than an weapon of vengeance. Let the past stay past, and put all that skill to some better use than settling old scores. Be yer own self, and not some bloomin' robot."

Kimiko sighed. "I can't! My duty is as ingrained in me as strongly as anything can be. I must accomplish my mission, or die, even though it hurts like fire. But I want you to know, I do what I have to for the honour of my clan, and for no other reason. I do not hate you, indeed, I think I might…" She stopped herself., and sighed a weary sigh.

"After this, and reporting to your parents, there will be nothing else I really need to do. I had a foolproof way to cover my tracks planned, but I think instead I may use a more final one, once honour is satisfied." She pulled a finely crafted straight sword, blade blacked with soot, from a sheath across her back.

Monty felt despair. He was sure he could move somewhat by now, but with the poison still in his muscles, he was likely to be as clumsy as she'd pretended to be. Even if he'd been restored to full fighting fitness, he might have second thoughts about attacking. She was no two bit thug waving a weapon around, but highly trained professional from her bearing, both with that sword and martial arts in general.

Still, he prepared himself, ready to dodge the instant she struck, even while he made a last attempt to dissuade her. "Kimiko, you don't want to do this, or you wouldn't 'ave talked so long." He looked right into her eyes. "Just this evening I was wondering if I was in love with yer, and now I'm sure. I don't want to see you hurt yourself trying to live up to a promise you know is wrong and unfair. You aren't a killer, lass, and I think, deep down you know it."

For a moment, their eyes were locked, and in that instant, a lifetime passed between them. Then Kimiko raised the sword, pointed at Monty's throat and… flung it to one side. She slumped to the ground and Monty relaxed. She removed her mask and started making a strange noise, halfway between a sob and a giggle. "You're right… who would have thought it?… It seems I'm a failure after all… I should have been better trained..."

"Now Kimi-chan, there's nothing wrong with that…"

Kimiko blazed up, her face wild. "But there is, and there's only one solution…" She pulled out a vial from her belt and the mask from her face, all in the same action. Monty leaped forward to stop her, but too late. She swigged the contents even as he arrived, her cheeks showing she hadn't swallowed. Monty then did something he'd never done to a lady before, no matter what the provocation. He punched her in the gut, hoping to force her to spit out whatever she'd taken, before she could swallow it. Black goo sprayed out, and she slumped bonelessly in his arms.

"Too late…" Her voice was slurred and sounded as if her cheeks was full. "A ninja's life is in death. Since I can't complete my mission… I must…"

As her voice died away, her breath grew shallower and slower. Monty had instantly identified the stuff as more of the same poison she'd used on him. Obviously it had been the first thing that came to paw. Considering that a single mouse sized dart with the stuff on had put him on the floor, the massive amount she'd taken would relax all her muscles quite thoroughly, including the involuntary ones in her diaphragm and possibly even her heart. But how had it acted so fast? Ingesting it would have done nothing. A quick check of her mouth showed she'd bitten the insides of both cheeks, opening up wounds that let directly into her bloodstream.

She'd been very clever in the brief time allotted to her, but hopefully not clever enough. Monterey Jack was a pretty fair barefoot doctor, having been in enough scrapes and hazards for any three mice. In the main, his medical training had come from two people in his home country. One was a full blooded aboriginal kangaroo rat who'd taught him a great deal of herb lore and nursing. He'd supplemented that with learning from medicine mammals on every continent, which was how he knew about curare's unusual effects. The other doctor, a very British long nosed shrew, ran a clinic out of an abandoned army ambulance, near Mugwump Flats.

It was this second doctor's teaching he was drawing on as he laid her down on what a human would have classed as a large pebble, using his jacket to make a headrest. He checked her airway… clear… breathing… absent… heartbeat… non-existent. Her eyes had closed as she'd slipped away, which was something of a relief. She was dead, and his only hope of preventing it from being permanent was to act as a heart lung machine until her body flushed the toxins out of her system. Then, with any luck, her heart and lungs would restart on their own.

He lent over her and started alternating rescue breathing and CPR, mentally blessing that old shrew for showing him the appropriate techniques for a mouse. Press press press… breath, breath… press press press… breath, breath… press press press… breath, breath. The routine became tireless and timeless in the indifferent moonlight. The body grew cool, which was not unexpected, as the curare was probably playing hob with her digestion, but the moonlight didn't allow him to see if her exposed skin was still the healthy pink of living flesh, or a less encouraging pallor.

He would have called out in the night for help, or yelled at her not to give up, to come back, but he needed all his breath to give to her. An hour passed, by the moon's movement in the sky, and still there was no change. Each time he rested his ear against her chest, nothing. Then suddenly, he could hear something, faint but present. A slow but steady heartbeat. He almost cried with relief. But she still needed assistance breathing, and he gladly provided it until he felt the soft whisper of breath from her lips. She was still unconscious, and would likely be as weak as a kangaroo that had hopped up Ayres Rock, but she was alive again, and showed every sign of continuing to do so.

He sat back on his haunches and whistled a sigh of relief. "Strike me starkers, Kimi-chan, you never do a thing by halves. Now I've got ta figure out how to get you out of your honour trap, without anyone else getting killed."

&

Dale and Foxglove were still sitting around the fire, toasting some marshmallows to go with a nightcap of hot chocolate. When Monty came into view, carrying Kimiko in his arms, neither of them thought anything of it, apart from 'Awww.' But a quick look at his expression in the firelight stopped that.

"Goodness, what's wrong Monty, is she ill?" Foxglove asked, jumping up.

"Too roight, Foxy lass. I'm gonna need blankets and stuff. Dale-lad, can ya get Chip up, and Gadget? I hate to do it but I'm goin' ta need help from everyone."

"Sure thing Monty!" The chipmunk bounded off.

With care Kimiko was laid down by the fire, with blankets and pillow. Monty kept checking, but it seemed she was now merely unconscious. He'd found some seaweed from the beach, similar stuff to 'Swagman's bandage', a variety you found on the Australian coast. It concentrated iodine, and made a good natural astringent and antiseptic when crushed. He'd made a pad to work along the insides of her cheeks and assist the healing. Zipper buzzed around worriedly.

He filled in the others on her story, finishing off. "So ya see, I got kinda a problem. Poor Kimi-chan's stuck on fullfillin' her duty, but she doesn't want to, and neither do I fer that mattah."

Gadget was almost in tears. "Golly, it's terrible! How could they force the poor girl to do those things?"

Dale was looking at the unconscious mouse-girl. "A real ninja! That'd be neat if it weren't for that whole 'Get Monty' thing. Maybe we could make her a Rescue Ranger, even." Foxglove's wing enfolded him , and he looked over to see her slightly worried. "I was just saying, after all I know how cool you think ninjas are. Maybe she could teach us how to ninj too." That seemed to relax the girl bat.

Chip shook his head. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I agree we've got to get her out of this stupid promise, but it's got to be by her rules. Fortunately, I've been studying the ways or the people we've met. After all, what is criminology about, if not how different people think and react? If there's one thing I've learned from talking to all those Japanese, it's that their whole mindset is based on duty, and obligation… Hmmm… I think I see a way out, but… Look guys, when she wakes up, let me do the talking. Umm… Gadget, Foxglove, could you check her clothing to see she doesn't have any other little surprises tucked away?"

Kimiko came around after a couple more hours, her first reaction being surprised that she was. She heard voices, Dale's for a start. "Hey guys, I think she's coming to!" Her limbs felt like spaghetti, and barely twitched when she tried to move them, the after effects of her massive overdose of muscle relaxant. There was a salty, bitter taste in her mouth, along with the iron tang of blood. Her eyelids worked, just about, and a blurry mass came into focus, Monty leaning over her with an expression of mixed worry and relief.

"Tooraloo, Kimi-chan, you cut it close there. Don't try to move, it'll be hours before yer limbs recover."

"Failed…" she rasped. "Should… used… knife…" Her paw twitched, trying to reach to her belt where a paw sized, cut down needle was stowed, sufficient to end her troubles, once and for all.

"We've got everything lass, well not me, it were Gadget and Foxy…" She felt Monty's paw slide under her head and support it so he could give her a sip of water, not enough to choke on even if she'd had that kind of muscular control. Her voice was better afterwards.

"Why all this? You know my mission, and my only options. Why couldn't you let me settle things, once and for all?"

"It's all about you, isn't it?" This was a new voice, Chip's, she remembered, and his tone was harsh, and shocking compared to Monty's gentleness. "Your honour, your duty… your death!"

Monty sounded shocked. "Now, Chipper!"

"Monty, she needs telling! Firstly, you didn't fail. According to Monty you were dead for at least an hour. No heart action, no breathing, no nothing."

"But how…" she trailed off, her voice genuinely puzzled.

"Monty knows CPR and rescue breathing. But that doesn't alter the fact you were dead for a time. As I understand it you had to either kill him or die trying. Well, you tried, failed, and died, so honour is satisfied." Chip's tone clearly had a 'and that's that' ring.

"But I'm still alive! Now I'm back in the same position as I was!" Kimiko sounded exasperated, which was actually a pretty good sign.

"Huh, and here was I thinking that when someone dies, so do their obligations. If Monty had done nothing, you'd probably be resting in pieces in the gullet of some carrion eater by now. You made an honest attempt at fulfilling your obligation the only way you could, and succeeded. You aren't responsible for what happened after you died, such as Monty reviving you. Kurokaze is dead, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can stop trying to take the life of Kimiko Kossori, an eight year old girl who never had a chance to live a normal life."

Kimiko sounded confused. "But… but… That's just sophistry, playing with words."

"It's not only that, there are other elements to this. Don't you think Monty has honour too? Monterey Jack Colby would never let someone die if it were within his power to save them, even if he knew they were sworn to kill him. Indeed, by some interpretations of giri obligation he took responsibility for your life by saving it, and the only one you should be listening to is him. Let's not forget that he cares for you, deeply. Everyone could see it, except possibly you two."

He didn't see Dale glance back and forth between him and Gadget and mutter something about 'pots and kettles' in Foxglove's ear.

Chip continued. "Kill yourself now and you ruin his heart and his honour, to salvage yours. You might as well have killed him when you had the chance."

"But… I have to do something! It's not just my honour, but the honour of my clan!"

"Okay, let's examine how you clan's honour would be affected by carrying out your mission. I may not know as much as Dale and Foxy do, but I do know that ninja were originally secret warriors, peasants who took it on themselves to help and protect those who couldn't protect themselves. They only became the tools of the shoguns and the great lords later on.

"I can understand those original ninjas well, I think. The Rescue Rangers are in the same job, if we had a charter it would probably say something about stopping the crimes that slip through the cracks, helping animals and humans that the authorities can't or won't.

Kimiko sounded puzzled, but interested. "But what has this to do with my mission?"

Chip felt encouraged by this and decided to go for broke. "You're not going to like what I say next, but I think you're capable of dealing with it. I can imagine how your grandfather felt, that day the bomb fell. I feel the same responsibility every time we go on a mission. He was responsible for gathering the clan there, and he must have felt hideously guilty at the outcome. I'm not sure that I wouldn't feel the same if something happened to one of the Rescue Rangers. That kind of guilt can kill as surely as a bullet, so he had no choice but to find someone else to shoulder the blame, and who better than his worst enemies, the Colbys?

"The Rangers have met up with plenty of villains who's initial aims were praiseworthy, but decided the ends justified any means. I think that's what happened to your grandfather. I'm sure on some level he knew what he was doing to you was wrong, but justified it any way he could, because to admit otherwise would be to admit his own guilt."

Kimiko almost shouted out. "No! Grandfather's goals was honourable, they must have been!" She subsided in a fit of coughing.

Chip waited until it had died down. "I'm not saying they weren't originally. But I've seen people under far less strain end up making mistakes. People aren't perfect… I know I'm not. That is why you should have taken a step back, considered the big picture, when you became the last of the clan. Because in effect you became head of the clan. Think back on those ancient traditions you honour, would they truly be served by killing yourself and so destroying the last knowledge of the clan, or destroying a family who's only fault was being on the opposite side in a war? How does that protect people, or carry on those traditions? A leader must ultimately make these decisions for themselves."

Kimiko's brow was furrowed. "I had not considered that. I had never considered myself a leader, merely a gennin completing a task." Inwardly, she felt hope for the first time. True, she'd never actually been invested with such authority, but her intensive training qualified her for the position, and nothing in the masses of ancient books of lore she'd learned prevented it. Indeed, by those laws the continuation of the clan was of higher priority than any single mission. And implicitly as the executive of those laws, she had no choice but to follow that prime objective. She must do her duty, but first she must decide how.

Suddenly she hit on a brilliantly simple solution. "Monty-kun, I stopped myself before, because it hurt so much for me to say something. I say it now… I love you…" she blushed and ducked her head. "Did you mean it when you said, you loved me?"

Right at that moment, Monty could no more have hesitated or lied than he could fly without a plane. "That I did, Kimi-chan. I was considerin' marrying you, but I didn't think you'd be able to adjust to my lifestyle, and I wasn't sure I could've adapted to settlin' down. But if you'd said yes, I'd 'ave tried."

"Then as Jonnin, I can see a way to satisfy honour and give us both what we most desperately desire. Marry me, and join the Colby family to the Gengetsu clan. Make your families strength and honour a part of the clan, and prevent the clan from dying with me. My grandfathers original desire to see our clan survive will be fulfilled, and your family will no longer be a separate entity, so I will have ended your family line, because it will be combined with mine." She felt a wave of relief as a massive weight lifted off her heart.

Monty looked uncertain though. "Kimi-chan, I said I love you an' I meant it, but I'm a mite older than you, and you could get any bloke your heart desires. Are you sure it's not just to solve our problems? Do you really want me?"

He was still sitting next to her, and had no time to move back when her arms started to twitch, once, twice, before pushing her up and enfolding him in a hug. She then proceeded to kiss him in a manner that left no uncertainty as to her feelings on the matter.

Zipper bugled happily, and Foxglove held up a pair of number cards saying, '4.9'. When the others looked at her she shrugged, and said, "Well, maybe I should take into account that she's still weak from the poison." She flipped the '4' to reveal '5'.

Things happened quickly after that. The noise had finally brought other people to the scene, both other contestants and WAAT officials. Monty explained that Kimiko had trodden on a washed up jellyfish spine while they were out walking and gotten very ill. Fortunately the blankets and fire light disguised the changes in her from the few officials who'd met her before. Chip insisted in flying the pair back to the infirmary Tomodachi island in the Rangerwing, which easily converted into an air ambulance. The two right-hand, rearmost seats folded down into a bunk space, while the middle left hand one became a bedside table.

Monty immediately took his place in the remaining seat where he held Kimiko's hand all the way back to Tomodachi, and Zipper went with him, to monitor her condition. It was past one in the morning when they reached it, but help quickly arrived to carry Kimiko's litter to the WAAT buildings. Monty started to go with her, then paused. Chip shoved him on.

"Go on! She needs you." he said quietly.

"But Chippah, You'll be doing all the piloting fer the 'Wing solo tomorrah, and you'll get less sleep tonight than a koala in a swamp full of bullfrogs." Monty wanted to go with Kimiko, but he couldn't just leave the chipmunk detective after what he'd just done.

Chip shook his head. "I can manage without a relief pilot. I'll put Dale or Foxglove in the other seat to operate the manipulator arms; they've both checked out on Gadget's construction sphere. Besides, no-one's better at crane games than Dale." Chip held out a paw and Monty's own big callused paw engulfed it. "Congratulations, Monty."

"Thanks ta you Chippah. I just want ta say…"

Chip grinned. "Save it. Gadget's not the only one who's owed a debt of gratitude by the Rangers, and me in particular. Just try and talk Kimiko out of going ninja on my furry tail for being so rough with her. But I couldn't see any other way of getting her out of that pit of self pity."

Monty chuckled. "I'll try, lad. But you know how girls get sometimes…"

"Get outta here, you big Australian cheese-wheel!"

As Chip went off and see about getting the Rangerwing refueled for a return to Checkpoint 3, Monty went eagerly off after the litter carrying Kimiko, with Zipper perched on his shoulder. After all, he and Kimiko had a lot to talk about, and it might just take them the rest of their lives.

****

To be concluded…


	4. Chapter 4

****

On a Wingnut and a Prayer - Part 4

Chip didn't arrive back at the Screaming Eagle until past 3 am and by common acclamation was allowed to sleep late. Breakfast was simple, and the discussion was mostly about Monty and Kimiko, but at one point Gadget asked, "Chip, last night you were saying something about it not making sense that Mouseworthy was behind the sabotage of the Golden Carp. What did you mean?"

"Well examine the possible reasons. It might have been to discredit Gadget because it could look like she had a chance to do it, and if he could convince people that the reason was because the Screaming Eagle and Golden Carp were the only ones this year in line for an Albatross award. This would only work if the ditching occurred and destroyed the evidence, otherwise it would show it couldn't have been her, because those strips of tape had to have been placed only the night before, and Gadget did her work on the first day. Maybe if he could make people believe she did it after everyone else was exhausted from the party, it would still work, but I'd love to see him try and argue it with the Nekomi team and us all saying different. See, there's just too many ifs.

"Or take Gadget turning back to help. Reasonable enough until you know the Rangerwing was going to be up there, which was no secret. Send in the prize winner or the rescue plane… ooh… tough choice. As it turned out it we had to convince the safety marshal to let us help at all. You think he'd consider that, after all he's the experienced racer. Or my other suggestion as a dry run for us. Oh brilliant! All that's done is alert us and make us lose a bit of sleep." Chip yawned and shook his head. "Nobody would risk such flimsy plans. Besides there's no solid evidence leading to him."

"Golly, I hadn't really thought it through that far. But if not Mouseworthy, who?" Gadget asked.

Chip looked unhappy. "That's what I need to work out. Maybe when we get back I can find this girl squirrel who distracted Shippo, she must have been in on it… and that is another puzzle, how did our saboteur know they'd need a girl squirrel to prevent the final flight inspection? That's a point against it being Mouseworthy, because as far as I've seen, his crew are all mice. The simpler alternative is that Shippo's lying, but no-one seemed to consider that."

Dale spoke up immediately. "Doggone it, Shippo's a good guy!"

"That was my impression, but just because you get on with him doesn't mean he's immune to suspicion." Chip sighed. "Not that I'm condemning him either. I need more information!"

However, there was no time to get the information, because the Golden Carp was one of the first aircraft to launch. Chip continued to consider the problems throughout the second day, which was surprisingly uneventful. Gadget once again started off in the last slot and was first to the sixth checkpoint, the resting place for day two. They didn't have another encounter with Mouseworthy, because he was too busy haranguing his staff at his own encampment. He had managed to hold his own against Gadget this time, but only at the cost of replacing his burned out engines that evening. It was quite clear he'd been running the risk of blowing the whole works, and it still wouldn't be enough to gain back Gadget's lead. This made the evening at the second checkpoint something of a cheery affair.

There was another reason for feeling good. They had gotten in contact with Monty. According to him, Kimiko had fully recovered and other things were progressing happily. To do this Gadget had ample time that afternoon to tinker with spares from the Rangerwing and improvised an over the horizon short-wave radio. Gadget had laid a loop of fine copper wire around both planes, brought along for rewinding electric motors, should one need it. The purpose, she told interested bystanders, was to create a powerful directional short-wave loop antenna that would bounce a signal off the heaviside layer and allow them to contact Tomodachi island. When connected to the sophisticated circuits and powerful batteries on the Screaming Eagle, it worked perfectly.

However it also had a second purpose. She'd built a basic audio amplifier that hooked into a set of headphones and the laid out loop. It would act much like a theremin, so any object crossing that line would cause the headphones to howl. It added up to a loop inductance alarm system, a backup against the person on watch falling asleep. Once again Gadget was allowed to sleep the night through, while the other three stood watches.

It was Chip's watch and he had moved his sleeping bag under the wing of the Screaming Eagle as the sky had clouded over and a light rain had begun to fall. The others were inside the two planes, the girls in the Screaming Eagle, and Dale in the Rangerwing. The previous night's nocturnal navigating was catching up with him, and he was half dozing when the headphones he was wearing squealed like a stuck pig. He was instantly awake and alert, heart beating as he slid out of his sleeping bag and scanned the surrounding area.

He quickly found the intruder, or rather his legs, visible under the fuselage, a dark shadow even in the clouded obscured moonlight. They were coming upon the Eagle from the far side, moving in a stealthy manner. Well, two could play that game. Chip went four paw and red-indianed his way across towards that side of the fuselage, staying in the deepest shadows he could find under the Screaming Eagle's body. It soon became clear the guy was heading for the engines on that side, or the armature that supported them and the wing. A little discrete tampering with any of those would make the Screaming Eagle a Falling Eagle pretty darned fast.

Chip had stopped short of coming out, being half hidden behind the currently extruded tractor landing gear and far better concealed by the shadow. However, as the intruder moved within a few inches of his goal, he hesitated and Chip could hear a sharp intake of breath. Almost at the same time the cloud above thinned for a moment and he could see the shadow form more clearly, and he almost panicked. The basic shape was a bipedal animal, but the head was huge, a malformed proboscis with a glint of a single huge eye, protruding from a distorted head. One arm was equally horrible, terminating in some club-like block. It looked like no animal he'd ever met.

His red LED torch was in his hand, and activating it illuminated the figure more clearly. He heaved a sigh of relief. It was some sort of small animal in dark clothing. The misshapen head was a helmet with a boxy camera-like arrangement on the front, night vision gear. It covered the top half of the head. The lens was similar to the ones he'd helped salvage for the planes. The lopsidedness had come from a tube with a glassy bulb strapped to the side, possibly an infrared LED acting as an illuminator. The block on the end of the arm was a toolbox. Not that he'd stopped to analyse any of this, instead leaping forward to take down the creature with a loud, "Pistachio!"

He dived low, aiming for the unprotected solar plexus, but swung the LED torch high, sweeping it right across the lens. The CCD was undoubtedly a regular chip from a camera, and sensitive to regular light as well as infrared. The creature reacted as expected, flinching and throwing up his free arm to protect vision from the white out. This left his gut unprotected as Chip shoulder charged him with all his strength. It resulted in a coughing wheeze as the wind was knocked out of him, and Chip bore him to the floor, yelling for help at the top of his voice.

It was a he, that much Chip could tell, and taller but leaner than the chipmunk. Something whipped across his legs, a tail so most likely a mouse or rat. His torch had flown from his hand so he struggled in the dark, but the helmet interfered with landing a good blow. Then suddenly he was seeing stars as his opponent applied that toolkit to the side of his head with great enthusiasm. It knocked him off, the other, who followed up with a nasty kick as he scrambled to all fours. Chip was fortunately no stranger to this kind of rough housing, and had already moved, so he only caught a glancing blow, but it still hurt.

Light was already going on in the Screaming Eagle, and the villain, turned and ran, hitting four paw drive immediately from his crouch. Chip was still feeling the other's kick and couldn't immediately follow him, especially as the light from inside the plane had destroyed his night vision. The other three were on the scene in seconds.

"Golly Chip, are you alright?", Gadget asked as she helped him upright. Normally he would have enjoyed it but currently his side ached too much.

"I've been better." he admitted ruefully, "The slime-ball got away, but at least he didn't get a change to damage anything. Your alarm system worked like a charm."

Dale was practically jumping up and down with excitement. "Who was it? I betcha it was Mouseworthy, he was trying to wreck Gadget's plane and win that way!"

"I didn't get a look at his face, but it could well have been." He described the attacker as best he could, then reached out and grabbed Dale by the scruff of the neck as the red nosed chipmunk started to march off in the direction of Mouseworthy's camp. "Hold it! If you go over there and start throwing accusations around, you'll be laughed at. Mouseworthy will have a dozen goons to say he's been in his tent the whole time. If you throw punches they you'll just get Gadget disqualified."

"Awww, but Chip…!" Dale had calmed down some, as Foxglove had him in a one winged hug.

Chip shook his head. "I'm pretty certain of it too, but it's an assumption. Sureluck Jones always said 'It's a capital mistake to theorise in the absence of proof.', and only the description I could give would fit dozens of creatures."

"Nuts!" Dale stamped his foot, and there was a squelch. "Ewww! What'd I just step in?"

Chip and the others looked down at the ground, illuminated by the plane interior. Chip gave a gasp and went down to his knees, examining the patch of off white as Dale stepped off it. "If I'm not mistaken…" He peeled one edge off the tarmac and it came off as a stretchy lump. "What does it look like to you?"

Dale peered at it, leaning forward. He sniffed. "By gum it's gum!" he exclaimed. "Recently chewed by the look of it. Banana flavour, European brand, you can tell by the colour."

Chip suddenly remembered where he'd last smelled banana, and suddenly several things connected together. "Of course! Idiot! It's so obvious!"

Foxglove frowned. "Chip! That's no way to talk to Dale!"

Chip suddenly realised how it sounded. "Not him! Me! This is evidence Mouseworthy was the one here tonight, and was the one who wrecked the Golden Carp. It's almost too neat…"

"I know Mouseworthy chews gum, Chip, but surely he's not the only one who does." Gadget said.

Chip sighed. "You're right, I still need better evidence before I have anything solid enough to take to the WAAT committee, and to be sure this isn't a clever plant. Besides, those things I said earlier about his motive not making sense still holds true." He looked puzzled as he said this.

Gadget interrupted his reverie. "Umm… Chip, if you find your evidence, could you wait until after the race to present it? I want to win over Mouseworthy fair and square, even if he is a cheat."

He sighed. "Okay, I will. But I need to leave first thing in the morning, and take Dale and Foxglove too. Hopefully I can get what I need back at Tomodachi Island." He cautiously held out his hands to her, and equally uncertainly, she took them. She could feel the warmth of his paws, the firmness of his grip, and she felt immensely safe and warm.

Chip smiled, gazing right at her. "Don't worry, I'll be back to escort you during the race, though I might have to join you after takeoff. I promise." They found themselves looking into each others eyes, noticed what they were doing, and both instantly released each other and looked away in embarrassment.

Chip coughed, "As I was saying, you beat this goon in the air, than I'll bring him to justice when he lands." He was flippant, trying to cover up his feelings. He'd decided long since that Gadget wasn't going to see him as more than a friend, so he'd stopped chasing her, and as part of his attempt to reinvent himself, concentrated on being the best friend he could. But just then, had he seen love in those deep blue eyes, or just a reflection of his own feelings?

"Roger Wilberry, Chip!", Gadget replied, falling into old habits in her confusion. Despite her talk with Foxglove, she still wasn't sure what she was doing, or if it was love she was feeling, and if so, whether Chip felt it in return. But just then, when she'd looked into his eyes, had she seen love there, or was it just a reflection of her own feelings?

Being Gadget, this immediately diverted her attention. The eyes were supposed to be the window to the soul, and physiologically they were a direct connection to the brain, where thoughts and feelings were processed, so it was possible, but what would be the means of transmission? She focussed on this problem, because it was easier than figuring out what had just happened. Absently she noticed Foxglove offer to take over the watch, because Chip would need his sleep for flying tomorrow. So would she, so she went back to her folded out seat bunk in the Screaming Eagle.

&

Chip was as good as his word. He and the others were up early, and headed off in the Rangerwing before the dawn broke, with Foxglove still dozing in the back. It had been rather lonely after that, but she'd filled in the time by checking and tuning the Screaming Eagle down to the finest point. She might have a comfortable lead, but she didn't intend to be complacent.

The morning wore on and one after another the slower flyers took off. Professor Chinou came to visit, and was most pleased to hear that Chip had a lead. Gadget found she couldn't exactly explain it all, since Chip hadn't really had time before they'd gone to bed, or in the morning. She asked him to keep quiet about it until Chip was ready, and he readily agreed. She watched the Golden Carp lift off perfectly, and wished them well.

Mouseworthy appeared as his goons were moving the Cloudbuster into position. He was, as always, the second to last to leave.

"So your 'friends' have deserted you." he sneered.

"HumIdunno, maybe they don't think I need any help, especially to deal with the likes of you." Gadget was a lot less worried by him this time than any other. After all, the Screaming Eagle was waiting to launch, there were several officials around, and if he tried anything, he'd be caught instantly.

He scowled. "Enjoy it while it lasts, little girl. It won't last long."

"I don't see any sign of it stopping." Gadget made an exaggerated show of looking around her. "Nope, no stopping there… or there, how's your stomach?" She made the last a casual continuation, something she'd seen Chip use on a suspect to catch them off guard.

His arm moved involuntarily in a way that might well have ended in him cradling his stomach, then stopped and moved back as he noticed what he was doing. Jackpot!

"I don't know what your talking about!" he said with far too much force, then said, "I'll settle accounts with your pet tree-rats later. But you… today is where I win and you lose! You may think you're winning, oh yes, but your ultimate defeat is nigh!" His voice rose triumphantly.

"Umm… shouldn't there be a maniacal villain laugh after that?" Gadget asked. "That was definitely a villainous monologue, possibly even a rant, and it really should end in insane laughter. I mean, golly, there's right ways of doing things after all."

Mouseworthy just stared at her, in the way people often did when she drifted off to planet Gadget, as she started to lecture him on the various varieties of villainous laugh. Then the call came from his pit crew that his plane was in position. "Very witty, or half that."

He stomped off, but not before Gadget called after him, "You should know." She watched him depart with a feeling of satisfaction. She'd managed to hold her own in a verbal duel, all by herself, and avoided warning him that he was the one with troubles. Maybe listening to all Chip and Dale's banter over the last couple of years had been useful after all. Though she'd meant it about the laugh… She started thinking about it as she prepared her own plane and the Cloudbuster took off in a twin trail of foaming soda.

Her own turn came, and to save a few seconds and a few grams of fuel, she did a normal takeoff. As she soared into the sky, she glanced at the time display on the OLED screen, and happily confirmed her calculations. She'd be there with enough time to share a coffee and some walnut walleroo cookies with Chip before Mouseworthy finally arrived to be arrested, or disqualified, or whatever they did to cheating saboteurs. The sky was mostly clear of cloud, the wind was with her, and she was passing slower planes like they were standing still.

She zipped through the seventh checkpoint like Foxglove out of a very hot place, noting that as usual the Cloudbuster was on the ground, tanking up to feed it's thirsty engines. The one minor cloud on her virtual horizon was the lack of contact with Chip. Admittedly she had started a bit early, but even so he should have gotten this far by now. Certainly, there were no other planes around, or marshals. Despite the reverse staggering process, the staggering speed of the Screaming Eagle had left everything else behind. The only thing that could catch her was the Cloudbuster, and it made no difference, because according to her calculations, it would just be taking off from the eighth checkpoint as she was crossing the finish line.

As she approached the midpoint of the second leg, she had one screen acting as a rear view mirror, to look for the Cloudbuster, which was several minutes overdue, and one magnifying the forward view and sweeping back and forth to spot the Rangerwing. She was flying over some foamy water that suggested reefs just under the surface, when several things happened at once. A spot appeared in the front and rear viewing screens almost at the same time, the Cloudbuster and the Rangerwing as expected.

The Rangerwing was coming in at an angle, and lower then her and Mouseworthy, just above a light cloudbank. Clearly Chip had been going on dead reckoning until he'd been close enough to use the direction finder and drifted away from the ideal line. Well, no matter. He was here now.

She switched the radio channel from the WAAT emergency channel to the Rangerwing's private wavelength as she moved the stick slightly to veer out of the way of the rapidly closing Cloudbuster. The idiot was going to do a close pass, as if that would make any difference. She could see the silhouette clearly now… and realised there was something wrong. Those bulges under the wings, had he carried his soda JATO units all the way here? That would explain why he was overdue.

As she cleared her throat to contact Chip, she suddenly heard his voice cry, "Break right!…" before everything dissolved in a crackle of static. She instantly did so, even as she looked for whatever the problem was… The soda bottles had detached and were growing bigger, curving round even as they did so. Homing missiles! She instantly considered dropping thrust to cool the engines, but decided she'd need all the power to evade.

On board each soda bottle, attached to the front, an arrangement of heat sensitive receptors and circuits controlled two pair of vanes that acted as control surfaces, bending the path of the soda bottle to home in on the strongest heat source in their field of view, the quadruple engines of the Screaming Eagle. But they could only turn so fast. Would Chip's partial warning and the planes own gyrations be enough to evade them? Almost. One shot past a wingtip, losing tow and spiraling off into the sea. The other barely clipped the edge of the lower port engine, but it was enough. The jolt triggered a percussion cap, and the glass bottle shattered into a thousand sharp shards, each driven by the velocity of the missile, and the remaining pressure in the soda bottle.

Many shards flew past, or harmlessly scarred the hull and landing gear pod. But several dozen ripped into the aluminum shell of the port engine, wrecking the finely crafted workings. Other fragments wedged into the rotator ring that moved the port wing and the engines, jamming it in place. In the cockpit, Gadget's control panels started flashing red lights and the her stick movements no longer seemed to steady the plane. Trailing smoke and flames from one engine, the Screaming Eagle started to spiral down, heading for the foaming sea.

As Gadget quenched the lower two engines, and reduced thrust on the upper pair, the static in her earphones lessened, and an unpleasantly familiar voice spoke. "Victory is mine! Nyahahahaha! Villainous enough for you?"

She had to admit, it was a good villainous laugh. She immediately started saying, "Mayday, Mayday! Screaming Eagle, WAAT 1A, one engine out and port control surface jammed…"

"Don't bother to call for help. The emergency channel is blanketed with static, and this channel will be drowned at any distance by the frequency spreading. No-one but me can hear you, and I actually enjoy it."

Gadget knew better. Chip was somewhere close, and Mouseworthy hadn't seen him. The malevolent mouse must have tuned into the Ranger frequency when he damped the static on it, probably with a band-pass filter. She was trying to regain control, but every attempt to level out just caused her to spiral. She considered rotating the starboard engines forward and trying to decelerate or turn, but her knowledge of aerodynamics told her that without the port wing as a control surface she'd go into a flat spin, and that would definitely be that.

The only choice left was to eject the passenger cabin. She thumbed the arming switch, but the ready light didn't go on. The ejector circuit must have been cut. That meant she was out of options, so she had to give Chip as much information as possible, because it was up to him to save her. She didn't let her distress, or her activities, stop her from talking.

"I'm heading towards the atoll and I can't pull out. Someone will find out you attacked me from the wreck! Disqualification is the least of your worries."

Mouseworthy's voice dripped smugness. "I have no worries. The Cloudbuster was designed to catch up with anything in the sky, and blast it. Maybe my design choices made more sense than you thought. And the beauty is I could have a weapons system in plain view, and those idiot WAAT officials passed them as takeoff boosters! Your wreckage will never be found, and I'll win, just as I said." His voice was getting harder to hear as the Cloudbuster moved out of range. He probably couldn't spare the fuel to circle, for which she was grateful.

His voice turned triumphant with a vicious edge. "I'll take the title, your life, and ruin the Hackwrench name. Knowing that, despair and die. I'd say farewell, but I wouldn't mean it, so instead, burn in eternal torment like your father!" The static came back on.

Gadget still hadn't figured out a way to pull out of her death dive. Her only course of survival was the desperate expedient of scrambling up to the back of the plane and jumping out the cargo door, relying on her ever present parachute. But her calculations gave that plan only a 12 percent chance of success.

Suddenly Chip's voice was in her headphones. "Stay on your course and get ready to go to full thrust! You'll know when!" She looked around and saw the Rangerwing in a power-dive heading right towards her. Her first instinct was to change course, but she trusted Chip.

Chip had ducked into the cloud patch just below his plane almost as soon as the missiles hit. He heard the entire exchange, and burned with anger at Mouseworthy's words. But he had to stay silent or the malicious mouse would know there was a witness. His DF gear was still locating the Eagle, and he knew he had to get to it, so he rammed the yoke forward and pushed up the thrust into a full power dive. But what to do? Suddenly he had a crazy idea, but the more he thought about it, the more he was sure it was the only way.

There was an excellent chance that even if it succeeded, he was likely to smear the Rangerwing and himself over the atoll like strawberry jelly. 'Better me than her.' he thought, as he cleared the base of the cloud and spotted the Screaming Eagle. It was only a few hundred feet away from the coral, and dropping like a stone. He adjusted his course to collision, and kicked in every last ounce of thrust in his jet engine. "I hope this works…"

****

Station break – Apparently you can have a cliffhanger without a cliff.

The Screaming Eagle and the Rangerwing were diving towards an impact, their jet trails making the two arms of a V. They collided, the nose-cone of the Screaming Eagle impacting on the Rangerwing's canopy, which bowed inwards. But the Rangerwing was moving at high speed and dragged the nosecone, and the rest of the plane as it went past. The Screaming Eagle flipped like a flapjack, turning end for end. Of course as soon as she saw clear sky, Gadget did as Chip had suggested, ramming the remaining three engines up to maximum thrust.

The Screaming Eagle hovered tail first for a fraction of a second, then shot back up into the sky like a rocket. In this case Gadget could compensate for the lack of one port engine with control of the undamaged starboard wing, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The jolt had shaken loose the fragment jamming the port actuator ring, and she had control of the port wing again.

She quickly leveled off the aircraft, and made a tight, side-slipping turn to view the direction the Rangerwing had gone. She quickly spotted the horrifying sight of a huge dense cloud of debris and spray below, stretched out on the very edge between the bare rock and sand of the atoll, and the water. "CHIP!" The word was almost a scream.

Then the Rangerwing burst out of the far side of the debris cloud, jet on full, control surfaces set for maximum positive pitch, and even the fan motors blasting downwards. Doing all that had cast up the sand and spray.

Chip's voice was a welcome relief in her headphones. "I'm fine Gadget! Are you okay?"

"I've got control again, but one engine is wrecked. That was an amazing piece of trajectory calculation!"

"Uhhh… yeah. I'm just glad you're safe." In the Rangerwing, Chip was carefully avoiding telling her it had been done by the seat of his pants, and that he was quite a bit more than just glad.

"Me too… I mean I'm glad you're safe, not that I'm not glad I'm safe, because I am, but that particular one was meant to refer to you as the object of gladness and myself as the one feeling glad…" She looked over the displays and indicators, and a new feeling of unhappiness, far milder, went through her. "But that cheat Mouseworthy still managed a partial success, I can't beat him on three engines with the Eagle in it's current state, and the other engine's thoroughly wrecked. Even I can't fix it fast enough to make up the time. Not to mention I've got to land and fix the other damage. He actually scored a victory, sort of."

"He won't enjoy his victory for long, I'll make sure of that… Would it take to long to simply replace the engine?"

Gadget sighed. "No, that'd just take a few minutes, if you know where I can find a spare engine closer then the hangar at home."

Chip's voice was bemused. "Well… I'm sitting on one I can do without. After all the Rangerwing was the test-bed for the Eagle's engines, and it can fly perfectly well on fans alone." He paused as there was silence in his earphone. "Sorry, you must have thought of some reason why it wouldn't work."

"Golly, no, it will! Rendezvous back on the atoll! Why didn't I think of that?"

"I'm sure you would've. But you've had a stressful day. Besides, you think in engineering terms, how to fix things. I'm a detective, so I just see what's there."

The Screaming Eagle was quite capable of VTOL even on three engines in it's current, unloaded state. The Rangerwing dropped down beside it, and the mouse and the chipmunk got to work. The Screaming Eagle's port engines were rotated to horizontal, the damaged one lowest. Using the Rangerwing as a tractor, and a seashell as a shovel blade, they built up a ramp of sand to the damaged engine. It de-mounted easily and a quick check showed the fittings and actuators had survived. Fortunately the mounting on the Rangerwing was also designed for quickly de-mounting and remounting an engine, but it took them both to roll the soda can engine in to replace the wrecked one.

Finally Gadget sat in the cockpit of the Eagle and spun up the new engine. In all that time they'd had neither time or breath to exchange words beyond instructions. In a way she was glad, she had things she must keep to herself for now. She wished she'd had chance to discuss Chip's investigation, from the way he'd been acting it was clear he'd had good results. But she had time now, they could talk by radio until she was out of range. She sidestepped clear of the ramp on the Screaming Eagle's stork legs, and dusted off vertically.

Chip waved goodbye from where he stood by the Rangerwing, as he watched the Screaming Eagle lift off. He was staying behind to cover the wrecked engine, and mark it's location, so they could come back for it as evidence, and to repair it later. He jumped up to the cockpit and tried to contact her on the radio, but it wasn't working. Obviously some wire had gotten dislodged when they'd been doing the move. Oh well, what he had to say would wait till the finishing line, and he needed to move as fast as possible. There was no way the Rangerwing would get there in time to see her win, but he'd be there for her victory speech. He couldn't wait to confront Mouseworthy and deal with him once and for all.

&

Gadget had lied to Chip, because her figures didn't. Even with the best speed she could make, the Screaming Eagle could not quite catch up with the Cloudbuster before the finish line, even taking into account the Cloudbuster's last fuelling stop. It would be a close run thing, but she would loose by about a minute. However there was a way to trim that minute. The last checkpoint was on the far side of a long dormant volcanic island, worn down to a basaltic plug and now a jagged profusion of ridiculous pointy basalt spikes and fractured mesas that nature had poked out of a clear blue sea. The suggested route took a long curve around the jagged peaks, and Mouseworthy in his un-manoeuvrable Cloudbuster would almost have to take it. Going over would delay things almost as much.

There was a faster route, plunging straight through the thick of the spires, and taking under a minute, but it was dangerous. Such formations tended to make their own weather, with mists and dangerous gusts that could grab an unwary flyer and smash them into an unyielding basalt wall. However with the Screaming Eagle's maneuverability and her own piloting skills there was a 78 percent chance she could successfully gain the needed time. There was also a 6 percent chance she would plaster the plane on the rocks, which was why she'd said as little as she had to Chip. He was, after all, the detective, and might have picked up that her worry was more than just that of losing.

The island grew before her as she raced across the sky. Deft paw movements on the Eagle's control panel swung back the wings, and threw up magnified views on the monitor screens, as well as sonar proximity sensor outputs to her stereo headset. She scrutinised the mass ahead of her, looking for ways in. It was merely the result of the release of plate tectonic forces and millions of years of weathering by sea and wind. Any feeling that it loomed, and that it's massive brooding presence was calling a threat and a challenge to her, were simply artifacts of hysteria brought on by the stress of competition. She eyeballed a way in and guided the plane towards it, plunging into a shadowed crevice.

She wove her way through the dim half-light, almost unrelieved by the super-bright white LEDs of her landing lights. Spikes, towers and fantastic bridges of fallen basalt loomed out of the dimness and mists. Without the enhanced views from her monitors and the ever changing hum of the sonar she would have smashed up a dozen times. As it was she veered, dived under bridges, barrel rolled to slide sideways through cracks and generally performed enough stunts for half a dozen Dirk Suave films, processing the incoming data and translating it into movement without conscious thought. Cross winds snatched at her, but she compensated even as she felt them. Her confidence grew as the flight continued, these were no worse than the junkyard canyons back home.

Then mists formed up in front of her, reducing visibility and her newly found confidence in equal measure. Her left headphone screamed as jagged spike loomed out of the mist and nearly opened up the scarred port side like a filleting knife. She spun away to starboard, heart pounding, breath gasping, and various other physiological signs of great stress doing their thing. There was no help for it. She would have to slow up and laboriously climb above the mist and narrow gaps or she would never leave them. 'I'm sorry, daddy…' she thought. 'You could have done it

Just as she reached to feather the wings, she saw something she couldn't quite believe. Ahead of her, in the mists was the vague silhouette of another plane, matching her pace, it's running lights curiously luminous in the way that fog shrouded lights often were. It veered to one side, just before her sonar told her to do the same. It was as if the pilot was a bat, or telepathic. Her concentration was fully on flying, she had no spare attention for radioing, but she started following it's path, certain for some reason it was guiding her. A pilots flying style was distinctive as a fingerprint and she knew this one, though she couldn't match it to a name. Still, she started to pick her way through the murk more surely, following the guiding stars of the other vehicles navigation lights.

After a brief eternity of follow the leader, the obstacles were no longer so close packed. She was through! Suddenly the mist started to thin, and the outline of the other plane grew more distinct as it drifted back and to one side until it was almost level. It had the look of an Ultraflight labs cargo craft, monoplane, twin spars reaching back from the wings to a wide tail-plane… two in-line engines? She imagined she heard, 'Don't hit the silk till your fuel's all gone. Go get 'em, Bluebird.' It was like one of those voices you heard when you were just dozing off to sleep, something that appeared in your mind without the ears being a part of the process. The phrase was her father's favourite expression for not giving up, and the name his pet name for her. She was still looking at it as they shot out of the canyon and the mists, and the other plane vanished like a shadow on a cloud when a plane flies over it into clear air.

Her logical mind immediately constructed a rational explanation, with the sort of speed that would put her best inventing frenzies to shame. Under the stress of the situation and the hypnotic effect of flying through fog, her mind had constructed a hallucination, giving her the confidence to fly blind using only the sonar data and her intuition. Since her mind had been on her father, he'd formed the core of it. She blinked, wiped the tears from her face with the cuff of a jump-suit sleeve, and told her logical mind to go to heck in a hand basket.

She dropped down to over-fly the checkpoint and through the hoop that marked it, noting with happiness that the Cloudbuster was sitting there, just starting to be refueled, as expected. While she was normally not one to enjoy the misfortunes of others, it did give her a little warm glow to see the way Mouseworthy jumped up from the deckchair his crew had laid out, spilling his drink and causing the chair to fold up on him.

She rejected the idea of wing waggling, or pulling a stunt, and devoted her efforts to getting every last drop of performance and speed out of the Screaming Eagle. Under her knowing touch, the engines went to 120 thrust, 130… and the ground speed indicator crept up to an incredible 270 miles per hour. One monitor showed engine data, which boiled down to 'she canna take much more o' this captain!', the other the view from the tail camera. Less than 20 minutes after passing the checkpoint, Tomodachi island came into view. She was over the coastline and headed for the two balloons that marked the finish line, when a black speck appeared on her rear view monitor.

It resolved into the white arrowhead of the Cloudbuster with frightening suddenness. However Gadget wasn't worried. This time the sky thronged with spectators, he couldn't try anything else, and if he did, she was ready. She raced for the line, closer, closer, and just as she flew out over the base the white shape overtook her and shot between the balloons a fraction of a second before she did. She followed after him, her body on automatic pilot. To have come so close, only to loose out at the last second… She couldn't cry, she wouldn't. An insistent electronic beeping told her that her tanks were close to empty, but she ignored them.

She circled, glancing down at the runway as the Cloudbuster landed. If she was low on fuel, he had to be completely dry, and besides it was the prerogative of the winner to land first. She expected a rush onto runway, but it didn't seem to be happening. Instead the crowd's faces were upturned towards her. A bird marshal swooped down beside him and unmistakably motioned the Cloudbuster to clear the runway. This was odd. She glanced at the big screen in the plaza which was showing a leader board…

1) Screaming Eagle II, Pilot: Gadget Hackwrench, Aggregate time: 4 hours 51 minutes 13.45 seconds

2) Cloudbuster Mk 13, Pilot: Lord Reginald Mouseworthy, Aggregate time: 4 hours 52 minutes 51.87 seconds

Aggregate time, that was it! He'd been before her in the runway queue in the starting line-up and had gotten a head start. So that meant she'd won! Everybody's efforts had been worth it. With a heart so light it was nearly able to support the plane in the air by itself, she went in for a VTOL landing on the runway nearest to the plaza. It cost more fuel, but everyone deserved a show.

Oddly enough, Gadget had never seen the pictures of Lindburgh being mobbed when he landed in Paris, or she would have been struck by the resemblance. She was met by a cheering mob, and carried shoulder high to the plaza. It was the tradition for the winner to get presented on stage as the winner, so that everyone could congratulate them. Once she got there, she was met by a couple of the volunteer security people and escorted into the rooms behind the stage. Someone had put a comfy chair in there and she slumped into it with relief.

One of the security people was a heavily built mouse with grease stained paws, obviously a mechanic normally. He turned to face her as they left. "Sorry about this Miss Hackwrench, but they need to get things ready up on stage. Someone will come for you when the presentation is ready to begin. Until then, if you could stay here it would help."

"Of course, if it'll help. But where are the rest of the Rangers, my friends?"

"I'm not sure miss. I'm sure they're being taken care of.."

Maybe she was jumping at shadows, but there was something about the way he said that which seemed off. Still she decided to sit tight and was rewarded after a few minutes with Chip coming in the door.

"Golly, Chip! You're back already?" Gadget was slightly surprised, but mostly pleased.

The chipmunk nodded. "Couldn't wait to get back, Gadget, oh, while you are up on the stage, don't mention anything Mouseworthy's done, no matter what happens. The whole thing's tied up with propriety, and we don't want to offend any of the committee by doing things the wrong way."

Gadget felt slightly puzzled. The first thing she'd expected Chip to do was congratulate her, but he seemed to be slightly distant, somehow, off. "Are you alright?"

The chipmunk looked nervous for a second, then said, "Just worried. Everything's gotten very complicated. I… have to go!" He ducked out the door.

Gadget almost followed him, but she decided to sit tight. What had happened that had Chip so worried? If it were something she could help with, he'd have said to come with him. Since it wasn't, she was better staying out of the way. She would have thought Chip could get the others in to see her, but apparently not.

It only took a few more minutes of waiting, then she was escorted up on stage. A number of notables from the WAAT committee were there to congratulate her on her achievement. She remembered a couple of them from the previous trials, when they'd done something similar for her father, and Tamaburo, the shape-shifting tanuki was among them. He had a slightly worried look, much like Chip's… Of course, Chip had gone to him about Mouseworthy's cheating ways. Kimiko might be a full time member of the WAAT staff, but Tamaburo was the membership section chief.

An image of the centre stage was being displayed on the big screen behind them as the Master of Ceremonies, stepped up to desktop microphone that was acting as a stage mike. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are here to congratulate the winner of the WAAT unlimited air race. The course this year was particularly tough, and yet it was completed in the fastest time ever recorded. Not only that, but it was done without refueling, as confirmed by our monitors at each nights stop. So let me introduce to you all, Miss Gadget Hackwrench, and her vehicle, the Screaming Eagle II, an exceptional pilot and an exceptional plane."

Gadget stepped up onto the broad stage, feeling very much the centre of attention, and more than slightly nervous. She looked out over the crowd and still couldn't see the other Rescue Rangers, especially Chip. She noted that the screen was now split, the top half showing the Screaming Eagle making it's over-flight of the airfield prior to landing, the bottom half tracking her across the stage. She glanced in that direction and saw a mobile camera phone on a turntable, being handled like a movie camera.

The chairman of this WAAT committee, Professor Saotome, was a respected rat engineering professor from Todai University in Tokyo, a regular contributor to Scientific Rodentia, and inventor of some groundbreaking computer modeling techniques for small animal aircraft. He shook paws with her, rather than bowing, congratulating her on winning both the Unlimited Air Race gold medal, and an Albatross award, a small trophy surmounted by a golden albatross, wings spread wide.

Gadget bowed politely, since he'd made the effort to use the unfamiliar custom, she should too. Then the chairman moved the boom of the mike down to her head level, and indicated she should make a speech. She blushed and paused for a moment, trying to think of what to say. For all her months of effort, and determination to win, she hadn't really considered a victory speech.

"Golly, I really don't know what to say. I didn't really do it to show off or anything, it was just something I had to do. My father, Geegaw Hackwrench, won this honour before me, and I wanted to fulfil his promise to do it a third time…"

"And to do that, you were willing to cheat, sabotage and murder anyone you saw as a threat to your ambition." Reginald Mouseworthy revealed himself as he stormed out from the other wing of the stage, and his penetrating voice with it's impeccable accent rung out over the hushed crowd, not that it was hushed very long, there were a number of jeers and boos at his claim.

Some of the WAAT officials were among those looking with annoyed at this blatant grandstanding, and were obviously looking around for security. Gadget herself was just too stunned by the effrontery of the guy to accuse her of the sort of things he was responsible for to form a coherent response.

"Hear me out!" the British mouse yelled as a couple of the officials, including Tamaburo moved to intercept him. "I have proof! I was going to bring it to the attention of the WAAT judges quietly, but I just couldn't contain myself when I saw her up here, acting all humble." The last was amplified as he reached the centre stage and the mike.

"Why you… this is ridiculous!" she finally managed to stutter out.

"Indeed." said Tamaburo, frowning. "You had better have excellent proof of these incredible accusations."

"Oh, I do!" Mouseworthy said with an evil glare. "Not only did she make an attempt to sabotage my own plane, but she also wrecked the Golden Carp airship. She didn't even want to risk someone getting an Albatross award besides her, such was her obsession with winning at all costs."

Gadget looked mad. "You're not one to be making accusations…" she started, but Mouseworthy shouted her down.

"Deny that you tampered with the buoyancy tanks while you were 'adjusting' the balance sensor! It would be easy enough for you to rig some damage that would cause holes once it was in flight and under extra pressure."

Gadget fumed. She dearly wanted to tell everyone that it was him, and that Chip had proof, but without Chip, or the proof she'd sound like she was just going tit for tat. Besides Tamaburo hadn't mentioned anything of what he must know, acting as if the accusations were new to him. That must be it, a sting to get Mouseworthy to make a mistake. Chip must have found out about this ploy. But how had Mouseworthy gotten past the guards in the first place?

For now she could only make denials. "I did not! Well I did adjust the balance sensor, because it needed calibrating to compensate for the resonance build up from the tail-fin. I'm good friends with the Nekomi Tech team, and the Rescue Rangers saved them."

Mouseworthy sneered. "Ha! And isn't that convenient? Your plane, and your inventions just happen to be in position for a daring rescue that makes you and your little friends look all heroic, and you didn't even have to loose a mile of headway. Plus, they still needed to re-pressurise so they lost their non-stop record. You got what you wanted."

There was murmuring from the crowd, not all of them hostile to Mouseworthy.

Tamaburo was about to step forward and carry the ranting mouse offstage bodily, and he wasn't the only one. "You spoke of evidence, show it or leave!"

Mouseworthy nodded, and pulled two things out of his jacket. Trapped between two pieces of tape were several strands of golden hair, and another tape baggie covered a wrench engraved with 'GH'.

"Golly, my favourite wrench, you give that…" She suddenly realised what this might sound like and stuttered to a halt, unintentionally making it sound worse.

"Nice of you to admit it," grinned Mouseworthy, nastily. "Last night I was woken by a slight noise coming from where my plane was parked. I stepped out and saw a shadowy figure reaching inside the access panel to the engine compartment. Hoping to take the saboteur by surprise, I sneaked up, but unfortunately stepped on a twig. The figure started, and pulled out of the hatch, slamming it shut. I tried to grab them and they stumbled, and something clattered, but they managed to give me a good kick in the stomach. I still have the bruises. They got away while I was still gasping, and by then it was no use calling for the rest of my ground crew.

Gadget was way into the orange zone by now. He was reversing things, the slimy stinker! She hoped Chip would make his move soon.

"I checked carefully and found some of these hairs trapped in the hatch. Obviously the culprit caught their hair when slamming it. Further investigation showed the fuel line connectors had been loosened. An ordinary inspection would have missed it, but I was very careful. If I'd accelerated to full power, the hoses would have come free and sprayed fuel all over the engine compartment. I'd have been blown out of the sky. I policed the entire area, and found this wrench. Obviously she used it to do the deed, and dropped it when I caught her. She didn't dare try and retrieve it, and must have hoped it had fallen somewhere inconspicuous.

"Everyone knows I was her main opponent, and clearly she couldn't bear the risk that I might beat her and spoil her precious little obsession. But she knew how to fix that, and she almost did."

Tamaburo turned to Gadget. "These are very serious accusations, Miss Gadgeto Hackwrenchu. They will have to be investigated most carefully."

Gadget started to say something, but couldn't get the words out. Tamaburo siding with Mouseworthy? Where was Chip? What if people actually believed these lies? If she told her story about being shot down, would they believe her, given the way things looked? The stress of her flight and everything since was hitting her. There were even a couple of shouts from the crowd of. "He's right!" "She's guilty!" She suddenly felt very alone.

****

Station Break – And things look bad for our heroine….

Chip had arrived about half an hour after Gadget, and one of the first things he did as he over-flew the area was glance at the board. Yes! Gadget had won, but it had been a darned close run thing. Then a sparrow marshal flew up and insistently guided him into a landing path. With the radio still out of whack he couldn't call the tower, but they had procedures for the planes that didn't. He was waved off the runway and moved into the Ranger's slot, to be met by Tamaburo, flanked by a couple of WAAT security volunteers.

Chip bounded down from the cockpit, saying "Konnichiwa, Tamaburo-san! Where are the others?" He expected them to have been back at camp, unless they'd already gone off to greet Gadget."

"They are helping me with this nasty business. There is something over at the Mouseworthy camp you must see!"

Chip's good humour evaporated. "Is Gadget alright?", he asked sharply. Tamaburo was definitely worried.

Tamaburo nodded. "She is safely at the main stage, waiting for her appearance."

Chip sighed with relief. "That slime-ball Mouseworthy! He tried to shoot Gadget down! I…"

Tamaburo motioned. "You have to come at once! There is no time for talk!"

Chip wasn't about to antagonise his local liaison, so he obeyed. Tamaburo was quietly evasive on their way there, but his concern had clearly been genuine. Chip was worried Mouseworthy had some other trick up his sleeve. At the camp there were a dozen guys standing around wearing WAT security badges, but no obvious crime scene.

"Your friends are in the tent." Tamaburo stated didactically. As Chip stepped up, he took a blow to the back of the head.

When he came to, he was tied up, looking into the grinning face of one of the guards. He yelled, "Hey! Whattcha do that for?"

The big mouse just gave a nasty grin. "'Cause I could." He said in English-accented mousese. Chip looked back and forth. The other Rangers were all in there, everyone tired up except for Zipper, who was caged, and suddenly the remaining pieces fell into place.

Tamaburo walked in looking unhappy. "You!" Chip snarled, trying to surge forward.

"Naow, none o' that, treecrawler." said the guard, cuffing him back into a sitting position.

Chip ignored him, staring at Tamaburo. "The mysterious squirrel, the person who planted the party idea, they were all you, transformed. Why couldn't I see it! You've been working for Mouseworthy from day one! No wonder he figured he could get away with anything. And the security, Mouseworthy's goons… what did you do to Gadget!"

Tamaburo shook his head. "She is safe, as I said. I have no wish for anyone to get hurt, but Mouseworthy-san required that I keep you from interfering. Of course, if you do anything rash, such as escape, I can not guarantee her safety. I am truly sorry" He appeared to mean it.

"You….", Chip bit off the anger he was about to let go and simply glowered. "I should have asked myself why the membership secretary of the entire convention was there to meet us personally on his busiest day!"

Tamaburo pulled a leaf from his jacket and placed it on his head. With a puff of smoke he transformed into the spitting image of Chip. Then he simply turned and left.

Chip looked around. Foxy and Dale were tied up side by side, as were Monty and surprisingly Kimiko, who was back in her glasses and padding. Zipper was trapped in a thimble cage, only recognisable by his buzz of anger.

"You said it pally." Monty agreed. "Chippah, what happened with Gadget?"

"Mouseworthy tried to use his 'booster rockets' to shoot her down, but we fixed it. You'll be glad to know she won, despite everything." Chip was annoyed too, but mainly at himself. But there was no time for that. "How did that rat in mouse's clothing get you guys?"

Dale answered first. "Well, he told us that he'd found something important here, and needed us as witnesses… When we got here the goons jumped us. Sorry, Chip."

"Not your fault, he suckered me with the same trick. You too Monty?"

"No, Chip-lad, me and Zipper had finished what you were askin' about, and went to see Kimiko was recovering, and she had some drinks ready… but it weren't Kimiko."

The Japanese mouse nodded. "Indeed. From what we've been able to piece together, it was Tamaburo. Monty, or rather Tamaburo came to my place with drinks, but they had some drug in. I foolishly let my guard down. After I was knocked out, he must have taken my place."

"The bowlegged badger must have figured that having his goons jump me and Zippah were too risky."

Chip nodded. "Shows they're not complete idiots. Mouseworthy must have been refueling when Gadget passed the last checkpoint and radioed on ahead. Now Tamaburo's probably off to see Gadget right now and feed her some line, that's why he looks like me. Well we can't escape right away…"

Dale interrupted. "Aw darn, it, we can't escape at all! You heard, they've got Gadget!"

Chip spoke more quietly. "Foxglove, are there any guards nearby, able to listen in?"

Foxglove's expression grew distant for a moment, then returned to a smile as she said, "They're way over by the main tent, though they've got this place in view."

"Keep listening and warn us.", he looked round. "I said right away. Once she's up on stage, she's safe. Mouseworthy won't have a chance to try any rough stuff, 'cause if he does, the entire convention is there to lynch him. Besides Mouseworthy is a grandstander. You can bet whatever he's got planned is going to be spectacular, and that takes time. And he does have something planned, or why keep her occupied with a fake me?"

The others looked relieved, and Chip hoped he was right. "We have to wait until we hear the presentation starting over the loudspeakers. Foxglove, if you would?" He twisted his paw behind his back to reach into his jacket sleeve and pull out a piece of craft knife, bound by insulating tape along the back. He noticed Foxglove's expression, which was distressed. "What's wrong?"

Foxglove replied. "I was listening to the guards. According to them, we're all going to have an accident when we desert Gadget. The Rangerwing, I think, will blow up with us in it. Then she'll be left without anyone to protect her. He's planning to blame the sabotage on her."

"And with Tamaburo, and the guards in his pocket, he'll be able to back up just about anything. Ruthless people, his goons," Chip said, standing up. "but better mechanics then henchmen. They didn't even check my jacket." He moved around, freeing the others. "I don't get how Mouseworthy managed to get all his goons as security volunteers, or why."

Kimiko spoke. "I think I know, how at least. Just before I went to meet Monty that first time, Tamaburo came up to me with a number of roster changes, despite the fact everyone in the membership section knew I wanted to leave quickly that night. It was in character for me to gossip." she amplified. "I did not check back against the files, just changed the schedules because I had to hurry. He must have counted on that. Otherwise I would have found they were all registered as Mouseworthy's air crew, and queried it."

"Aw, Kimi-chan, you couldn't 'ave known."

Chip moved over to the tent entrance and used the mirror surface of that same piece of craft knife to scan the area outside without exposing himself. "First day… that makes sense. Everything busy, and they found out the size of our team. Still there… No! They're coming over…"

At almost the same time Foxglove said, "Music's starting over at the Plaza." The others, forewarned, could just hear the faint sound.

Chip moved back to where he'd been tied up and sat down, hands behind his back. "Dale? Dueling Banjos to make 'em rush in?"

Dale grinned, "Gotcha Chip," he raised his voice, "You overblown dictator!"

"It's not like you did any better, walnut head!" called back Chip. "You should have spotted they were fakes!"

"The only fake around here is you!"

"Oh, yeah?…" About half a dozen guards raced in, lead by the guy who'd hit Chip earlier.

He raised a heavy metal spanner, obviously from a Mecanno construction kit. "'ere now, don't get fresh, or I'll give ya a couple of taps with this!" He surged towards Chip and dragged him to his feet by the collar, the other guards focussing on him for a crucial second. The other Rangers, and the mouse ninja, didn't need a diagram drawn for them.

Zipper was still under the thimble, though it had been freed, and simply flew up, carrying it over his head. He then dropped it on the head of the nearest guard like an over large dunce cap and rammed it down, whacking it repeatedly with a wing-nut he'd found like a demented fire bell. The thug staggered and collapsed.

Chip let the guy haul him up, putting him face to face with the bigger mouse. This was bad… for the goon, because Chip could then swing his paw over and throw a handful of dirt from the tent floor into the guy's face. The other paw straight armed out into the crook of the elbow of the arm holding the spanner, keeping it from being swung. As the guy spluttered and tried to rub his eyes, Chip was let go and followed it up with a leg between the goon's ankles. He hooked a foot behind the guy's leg and pushed. The other went over backwards, the spanner flying back over the guys shoulder and bonking another guard, right behind him, on the head. Chip rode the first one down, then made sure the bonked one joined his compatriot in unconsciousness.

Monty simply charged over to two mice, reached out, and knocked their heads together in a straightforward, easy going manner. Kimiko showed rather more finesse. When the last unengaged goon went for the soft target, she left him get as far as grabbing her lapel, then wrapped her paws around his and twisted. He winced as the plump little librarian half his size spun him into an Aikido hold, then used the stretched out arm to hurl him onto the pile Monty had created. When he started to move, she spun and her bow tipped tail flicked out like a striking snake, poking him in a specific spot under the shoulder blade. He slumped.

Monty's eyebrows were raised. "Tooraloo! The Tamaguchi Tail Strike. I heard of it, of course, but I never thought I'd see it with me own eyes."

Kimiko practically glowed with pleasure. "It is not easy to do. The tail must be tough, yet supple…"

"There are more guards coming!" Foxglove called out. Dale bounded forward, jumping over and sometimes on the bodies of the disabled guards, and called out. "Foxy! Let's try 'Sonic the chipmunk!'"

Foxglove landed beside him. "Gotcha cutie!" Dale crouched, grabbing his own feet and balled himself up, then Foxy effortlessly scooped him up in a wing, assuming a pitching stance as she poked her nose out of the tent. Echolocation pinged off the approaching guards, and she hurtled the ballistic chipmunk in a half bowling, half baseball throw, rolling forward at lightning speed. The approaching goons would have gone down like nine-pins, except there were only six of them.

Although they were down, they weren't necessarily out. One, a rat in cut down overalls, hauled himself up and loomed over the uncurling Dale. Of course this meant he'd turned his back on the tent, which proved to be unwise. Foxglove laid into the back of his head with a flying Bicycle kick that would have Liu Kang phoning his copyright lawyers. Dale stepped to one side as Br'er Rat did the collapsing thing again. He was getting good at it, because this time he didn't get up.

Foxglove landed and checked behind her, where the other Rangers were securing the goons who hadn't gotten up.

"Wowie, zowie! Nice one, Foxy!" exclaimed Dale, chuckling.

She cradled the tip of her chin with a wingtip. "Hmmm… maybe we should call that one 'Crouching Dale, Hidden Foxglove'."

"Or how about the bowled and the beautiful!" That got him a hug.

Meanwhile Chip had already told off Monty to go find some transport. Now he called over from where he was binding one of the mechanics with cable ties from inside his jacket. "Where did you learn that?"

Dale replied. "They were having a Classics day over at the arcade and I figured, why should some hedgehog have all the fun?"

"Well we better get going. We can't use the Rangerwing incase they already trapped it, and we don't have time to check." He said as he worked, "You know, technically we're in the wrong. They are supposed to be WAAT security."

Kimiko spoke as she plucked the badges form their overalls. "Easily fixed. I am part of the full time staff, and I say they've abused their powers." She fanned out badges for them to take.

Monty had scouted out a converted RC pickup truck that was obviously used for towing the Cloudbuster. "C'mon mates, we 'ave to get to the plaza fast!" Zipper bugled a charge.

Chip bounded up onto the back of the pick up, "We need to get Dale and Foxy to the projector, and me to the stage."

"You gotta plan, Chippah?"

Chip nodded. "You bet!" As they moved off, Chip took off his hat with one paw, and dropped the contents, a flash memory card, into Foxglove's lap. "Get to the projector computer and get ready to show these, you'll know when."

They could hear Gadget's speech start as they came close, and circled around the back to avoid the crowd. They saw three people in Mouseworthy's livery and with WAAT security badges guarding the door. Obviously they'd not had time to change into more inconspicuous clothing, and it indicated, to Chip at least, that the amateur villain was getting desperate.

Getting past them was easy enough. Chip had Monty swing round and drive by while Dale squirted them with the sachet of ketchup that he always carried for Foxglove, who wasn't exactly happy about it.

"No… not my last packet of Heinz!"

The Rangers in the back of the pick-up leapt on the disoriented guards and quickly started binding them, just as Mouseworthy's voice started over the speaker.

Chip raced ahead then paused at the door into the backstage, wanting to go help Gadget, but not wanting to leave the others.

Dale waved him on. "Go! We'll ketchup!"

That reassured him. As he turned to go he called back, "I'll deal with the trouble at the sauce!"

&

Just as it seemed to Gadget that the whole world had turned against her, there was a voice from above, drowning out Mouseworthy and Tamaburo, and the rising hubbub of the crowd. "Well done, Mouseworthy, it sounds like you believe your own lies."

The voice was Chip's and came from the speakers either side of the projector screen, but he wasn't at the main mike on stage. Suddenly he appeared from behind the announcers booth, off to one side of the stage, and bounded down.

His first stop was Gadget, and he barely paused, turning away from Mouseworthy and the audience equally, saying in a low voice. "Sorry I wasn't here earlier, there were complications." He really did look downcast, and Gadget couldn't find the heart to reproach him.

He turned to face the committee while Mouseworthy spluttered in indignation. "Get off this stage! Don't try to defend that blonde murderess unless you want to implicate yourself too."

Chip ignored him, focussing on Professor Saotome. "I apologise for interrupting, but since that guy decided to turn this affair into an open mike evening, I felt I might have a few words to contribute. With your permission, of course."

Tamaburo, who had gone white and shocked at the appearance of Chip, started to fade off into the background.

"And I'm sure Tamaburo-san will be glad to stay for the investigation he's just been urging."

Professor Saotome clearly favoured the polite chipmunk over the ranting mouse. "Indeed. I would be most interested to hear what you have to say."

Ignoring Mouseworthy's yell of, "Listen to me!", Chip continued, "Did you know for instance, that all the members of his extensive ground crew are currently acting as security, at the same time? Looks like our friend wanted a clear shot at his little diatribe."

A couple of people in the audience were heckling Chip, but he just said, "And stooges in the crowd to lead the mood, he really didn't leave anything to chance..."

"But too many of one team being marshals or security at the same time is not allowed, to avoid favouritism!" exclaimed Saotome. "I notice you have a security badge too." His tone clearly required an explanation.

Chip nodded. "Kimiko Kossori, one of the WAAT secretaries discovered that they were following Mouseworthy's orders rather than the committee's, and stripped them of their badges. She deputised myself and the other Rangers in the hope we would do a better job."

"Hmmm… Tamaburo, as membership secretary, what do you have to say?"

Tamaburo spluttered. "I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding…"

Mouseworthy started to stamp over, and Chip turned. "Oh stop it! Your tantrum is impressing no-one. I can prove you are putting the frame on Gadget."

Mouseworthy stopped, uncertain for a second then went into full sneer mode. "Ludicrous! I have evidence…"

Chip smirked. "Yeah, lets start with that. The hair for example. Oh, I don't deny it's probably Gadget's, but if it was caught in your engine hatch, the tips would be covered in grease and stuff, and the bases will show a ragged tear under a microscope. Of course if it came from somewhere else, say the hairbrush that of Gadget's that went missing a couple of days ago, the roots will show a neater shear plane."

Mouseworthy's façade flickered for a moment, showing Chip he'd struck gold. "And isn't it so convenient that she left such an identifiable wrench behind, which is kinda odd in itself. I've helped Gadget with her jet engines often enough and I don't remember her using a wrench on the fuel hose fittings. Gadget?"

Gadget was looking a lot happier now that Chip was fighting her side. She realised what he wanted, and that she might have something of her own to contribute. "Well, of course not. A normal wrench might jam them. It would be hard to use in a confined space… you did say the intruder was well inside the access hatch." She smiled brightly. "It sounds like a Muckleman wrench, or a right angled adjustable spanner would be right for the job."

Chip nodded. "I'm sure you have them. Where did you see that wrench last?"

"Well, I was making some adjustments to the landing gear on the Eagle after the time trials, and then that group wanted to talk about left handed framwinkles, and then there was the business with Monty and the cream cheese. When I couldn't find it in my usual toolkit, I assumed you'd borrowed it for that adjustment on the Wing, but I just lost track and forgot to ask. It has been rather hectic, after all."

"The price of popularity. The 'noble lord' over here had them removed and made up a story to fit."

Monterey Jack had appeared from the wings, Zipper on his shoulder like an avant-garde parrot. He stood at one end of the stage in an attitude of loom, arms crossed in a manner which indicated if he had to uncross them it would be an unhappy time for the English mouse. Dale had simultaneously popped out of the other wing, and gave a silent thumbs up to Chip, polishing his WAAT security badge with the back of his other paw.

Mouseworthy looked ready to chew nails, nine inch ones to be precise, and exclaimed to Chip, "How dare you!"

"Quite easily." grinned Chip. Mouseworthy was angry, and making mistakes, just as he'd hoped. He then turned to the group of WAAT officials. "Saotome-sensei, I am the leader of the Rescue Rangers, and I have been investigating the sabotage of the Golden Carp on behalf of the Nekomi Tech team, and against exactly the kind of allegation against Gadget. It turns out to be part of a larger plot by Mouseworthy. But our team is at your command. We've accepted WAAT security badges, and we will follow your orders. However, you have heard Mouseworthy. May I be permitted to respond?"

Professor Saotome looked around, getting positive reactions from the other members, except Tamaburo who was frozen. "Continue. This sounds… intriguing." When Mouseworthy growled, he simply turned and said, "Silence! Or I will have you restrained!"

"Just say the word, Sensay, and I'll tie the bloke up neater than a parcel at Christmas." Monty interjected.

Chip bowed again. "Thank you Sensei. The strange thing Mouseworthy's story is sorta right, but inverted. Let's start with the motive. Consider Gadget Hackwrench, acknowledged as one of the greatest engineers and inventors in the world. Firstly, her remarkable talent is outshone only by her honesty and generosity of spirit, as anyone who's met her for more than five minutes can testify. It's utterly out of character that she would act this way. Secondly, while I never met Geegaw Hackwrench, and feel the poorer for it, there are those in the audience who must have. I believe he was of the same character. Am I right?" This last was directed at the audience, and not a few people answered in the affirmative.

Gadget blushed at the praise, both for her and her father. But it seemed Chip had things well in paw.

"So her father would never condone cheating to win, and since she was doing it in her fathers honour… doesn't make sense, does it? Finally, Gadget built a long haul transport as her race plane, rather than a dedicated racing vehicle. Many of you were at her lecture. Does anyone believe that if she'd put her mind to it, she couldn't have built something that would make the Cloudbuster look like it was standing still? Isn't that right Gadget?"

Gadget nodded, "Golly, yes. If I'd wanted to, I could have sacrificed VTOL capability and payload space in the Screaming Eagle for tankage and extra engines. The hull stands up to at least 550 miles per hour, 880 kph, we proved that when piggy backing to get here… act'ally, pigs were not involved, because they don't fly except as metaphors for classical impossibilities, of course you could build a harness that would allow a pig to fly, maybe with a weather balloon dirigible… scratch that last part, it was rather off topic… Wellanyway, the hull was up to it and the extra engine power would have allowed me to do that unaided…. Fly at nearly the speed of sound, not allow pigs to fly, I mean."

Chip nodded. "So, why did you design it the way you did?"

"I wanted to win in the way my father would, in a cargo plane, the best I could build, something that we could use afterwards for Ranger work. Creating a racing plane just wouldn't have felt right."

"Thank you Gadget." He turned back to the audience. Hardly 'win at any cost'. Compare this with Lord Mouseworthy over there. He had been beaten twice by Gadget's father, and to someone with his… personality it must have been intolerable. So he did build a plane just for this job, and added some very optional extras to ensure his win." He allowed himself a small glare at the British mouse, who returned it with interest.

"But let's discuss the sabotage attempt he claims to have evidence for first. Oddly enough, something similar happened to us last night. I reported it to Tamaburo-san over there as soon as possible of course, but I'll recap it here. By last night I had suspicions, but no proof that someone might try to sabotage Gadget, and was getting past the WAAT security patrols, so I instituted a system of watches. I can't help think Mouseworthy must have been a light sleeper with exceptional hearing, to have heard a noise. We had something rather better, a loop induction sensor laid around our encampment.

"Early in the morning, about 2:30 am from the watch I consulted afterwards, it detected an intruder. I was on duty, so I crept under the plane to where I could observe them. They were barely visible with the overcast blocking the moon, but I could see something approaching. When it became clear it was approaching the root of the Screaming Eagle's wing, I turned my torch on them. It was a mouse or rat, about Mouseworthy's height, wearing a boxy helmet with lenses that must have been night vision scope, and carrying a toolbox.

"I jumped in to stop him, and managed to blind him with my torch and catch him with a shoulder in the stomach. He went down, but managed to return the favour with that toolbox to the side of the head. In short, he managed to get away. I was yelling for help the whole time, but guards were conspicuous by their absence. Later, I accidentally found this in the area of the fight."

He pulled out the mini zip-lock bag with the banana flavour chewing gum. "It was still fresh, and my opponent had exhaled pretty hard when I tackled him. This…" he pulled out a similar piece of gum in another bag, "… is the remains of a piece of gum Mouseworthy spat just outside our area on the first day. Both banana flavoured, and both showing similar tooth marks and fragments of muzzle fur. A PCR based DNA test should match the dead cells in the saliva chewed into it. I could match them against Mouseworthy himself, as well."

This stirred Mouseworthy into action. "Ridiculous! This is all a fix up, a diversion away from the real culprit!… You must have faked them, just the way you say I did my real evidence."

Chip shook his head. "I suspect we'll find you are a habitual gum chewer, and banana is your favorite flavor. You might claim that as a detective, I would make a better job of faking stuff. But how would I set exactly this up to counter your claim, without knowing it beforehand? Besides, your own testimony throws doubt on the story. It was almost 100 overcast last night over Checkpoint 6. But you said you were alerted by hearing a noise…"

Mouseworthy scowled. "Well of course, I was resting. Even awake, with the overcast I could barely see a dark shape against the light hull of the Cloudbuster."

Chip grinned inwardly, but kept his outward demeanor calm. "It's what you didn't see that surprises me. Your description implied the whole thing took place in darkness. You gave no clear description of the saboteur, surely you must have had a light source available, nor did you describe them as using a torch, or any kind of vision gear. How could they see to do sabotage? But you said it was Gadget, even had 'evidence' to prove it. Gadget may be a genius, but even she can't see in the dark"

Mouseworthy was clearly knocked back… but rallied. "I still say this whole thing is a ruse to divert suspicion from that mouse." The venom with which he said 'that mouse' was a little scary.

Professor Satome interjected. "I am more interested in Maplewood-san's determinations of the Golden Carp incident than your comments. You have had your say."

Chip smiled. "I'm glad you asked about that. Oddly enough, the situation comes down to gum again. The actual sabotage was performed by scotch taping the buoyancy tanks and making pin pricks. These were then sealed until the balloon was in mid-air. I hoped the method would point to a suspect, and it did. When Dale resealed the balloon, he used gum, and I remember him saying it would harden and peel off after some hours. And that's exactly how the saboteur did it in the first place.

"The night before the race, the Rangers and Nekomi tech crew had a party, which no-one can remember suggesting. In the morning, the flight engineer was distracted from checking the front hatch by a convenient lady squirrel, who couldn't later be found anywhere. The thing had been checked the day before, so he let it go. Obviously whilst everyone was sleeping off the party, the saboteur taped the hull, and plastered gum over the holes."

He called out, "Foxglove, run the first clip!" The screen stopped showing events on the stage and started replaying the view from the Rangerwing's front camera, during the rescue of the Golden Carp, with the tense voices overlaid.

Dale called out. "Aww gosh Chip, you mean you kept that?"

"I knew Foxglove would like it, so I transferred it to a spare memory card. What flavor bubble-gum did you use to seal the holes?"

"Uh… strawberry of course." He looked puzzled as to why Chip was asking.

Chip grinned and turned to the audience. "The Rangerwing was designed as a patrol plane, and used as a chase plane. A record function for the cameras was a must. As you can see, the bubble is pink, no yellow streaks."

There were a number of awed murmurs as the scene played through. While quite a few people had heard of this rescue, it was another thing to see it in action. Dale couldn't help but preen a bit at the admiring glances thrown his way.

"The proof is in the smell. When I examined the hull after the rescue, there was a scent of banana as well as strawberry. The Nekomi team will confirm that. Dale used only strawberry, so someone else must have smeared something banana scented on the hull. And who do we know who likes banana flavored gum?" He turned to Mouseworthy.

"Nice try chump-munk, but it won't wash. This is so obviously a set up. Why would I use such a risky method of sabotage, and one which could be traced back to me?"

"That puzzled me too. You're not stupid, you should have seen the flaws. Your motive was obvious, that first day you saw Gadget working on the Golden Carp as you came into land, and decided on the spur of the moment that you could not only defeat her, but ruin her reputation. At first I thought you were hoping that the dirigible would be lost, but that still left the discrepancy in times, it being checked by team after Gadget did her work. There were also the lucky breaks, the squirrel girl, our party at the right time, the absences of guards.

"Unfortunately I had to have my nose rubbed in it before I figured it out. A shape shifter was on your side, one high in the WAAT hierarchy." Chip turned to Tamaburo. "You could change the rosters and make sure his mechanics were the guards in the right times and places to let his shenanigans go unseen. You could disguise yourself as one of us and plant the party idea, or be someone calculated to distract the Nekomi Tech flight engineer at the right time. You even posed as our friend so you could keep tabs on us, and sucker us into a trap while Mouseworthy tore Gadget to pieces on stage. Fortunately Mouseworthy's mechanics are as amateur at being henchmen as Mouseworthy is at being an evil mastermind."

Gadget suddenly realised something. "It was you, not Chip!" When Chip looked at her, she carried on.

"While I was waiting to come on stage, you, I mean Chip, I mean it seemed to be Chip, came to see me and told me not to say anything on stage, said it would break procedure. But it wasn't you, Chip, it was Tamaburo. I remember you, well not you-you obviously, but Tamaburo-you saying something like 'I couldn't wait to get back, Gadget. Oh by the way…" But I mis-heard. Tamaburo always uses Japanese pronunciation when saying my name. So what he actually said was, 'Not to worry Gadgeto… By the way…'" She hung her head. "I should have realised."

Chip moved over to her and put a paw on her shoulder, giving a slight squeeze of encouragement. "It's okay, he fooled us all. He would have also taken charge of any investigation, and made sure the results came out however Mouseworthy wanted. That's why Mouseworthy could take risks."

Professor Saotome turned on the trembling tanuki. "Is this true?"

"I… I…"

"Shut up you fool, or else!" hissed Mouseworthy.

That did it. Tamaburo straightened up and looked the mouse straight in the eye with loathing. "You will threaten me no more. Yes, Maplewood-san is correct. Please, I ask nothing for myself, but only ensure he can not harm my little sister." He turned to Chip and Gadget. "I am truly sorry. I did not wish harm to anyone, least of all you."

Mouseworthy snarled, but was loomed at again by Monty and subsided.

Saotome sensei's voice had a little more sympathy in it. "Explain."

Tamaburo sighed. "About eight months ago, human developers started building on my clan's home. The shape-shifters among us tried to scare them off as ghosts and spirits, but they were relentless. We had to evacuate. As one of the best shape-shifters, and the most familiar with technology, I was a section leader. But during the transfer, despite all my care, my little sister went missing. I searched along the route for months but never found a trace of her.

"Then Mouseworthy came along. He knew I was membership secretary to this WAAT committee, and wanted to clear a few things. In conversation, he claimed to have met a lost tanuki, but not know her current whereabouts. He offered his resources to help search, and I was caught. At first he merely asked for a few minor things in return, increasing his air crew size, that kind of thing, but as his requests slipped over into the dis-honorable, so did his actions. He went from 'I think I know where your sister is', to 'I know where your sister is' and made it clear her continued health depended on my complete co-operation."

Professor Saotome frowned. "Your actions were shameful, but understandable. We will do all that we can to find your sister. We will decide an appropriate punishment for you later. Mouseworthy," He committed an insult by removing the honorific, "…you will be held responsible for her safety from this moment on."

"Ridiculous! This guy is making up stories to defame me, he's in cahoots with the chipmunk over there."

Chip shook his head, slightly unbelieving. "Oh c'mon! You still want to play this game? The Rescue Rangers will help find Tamaburo's sister too. But as for you, I have one other piece of evidence that shows you had to have accessed the front hatch of the Golden Carp. When you accused Gadget, you specifically mentioned her working on the 'balance sensor'.

"The Golden Carp's propulsion tail fin is a new development of Gadget's ornithopter design, and the balance sensor is a part of that. Only the Nekomi tech crew knew about the design, and myself and Gadget only found out about it when we helped work on it. So, how did you know? The only way you could know what it was, would be if you had seen inside the hatch yourself. Since I know nobody invited you, that can only leave sneaking."

"Lies! All lies!"

"And I suppose you'll say we faked this as well." He raise his voice. "Foxglove, the second clip please."

The big screen now showed a clear blue sky, with partial cloud cover below. Two planes were centred in the screen, the Screaming Eagle with the Cloudbuster coming up behind. The events of earlier in the day played out, the Ranger frequency traffic coming through clearly at that range.

There were expressions of shock at the missile attack, and Mouseworthy's monologue, as Chip diced through the clouds. There were also several cheers when the rescue was shown.

"How did you…"

"Having made my preliminary investigations on Tomodachi island, I was headed back to support Gadget. It is something of a co-incidence that I came in view just in time to catch that, but they do happen. And before you say anything, there's no way we could have faked it in the time available, and anyway, how could we risk showing a fake to the top engineers and technical people on the planet?"

Saotome sensei spoke up. "Enough, Maplewood-san. I think you've thoroughly proved your point." He nodded to Monty and indicated Mouseworthy. "Please take him into custody."

Mouseworthy yelled. "NO! That victory should have been mine… They all should have been mine…. The next one will be…"

Saotome sensei cut through the rant. "I doubt it. You are henceforth banned from all future WAAT conventions, and I doubt after word of this has spread that you will be allowed to participate in any air show, ever again."

Mouseworthy let out a tell of pure rage, and his cane swung up, first to point at the elder rat, and then starting to swing to point at Gadget and Chip. Chip caught on a fraction of a second before anyone else, remembering him doing something similar at the hot spring.

"Look out!" He moved in front of Gadget as his paw dipped into his jacket and pulled out a copper discus. In a continuation of the same motion, he flung it and it skimmed through the air like a frisbee, smacking into the stage in front of Mouseworthy and rebounding up, knocking his arm upwards just as the cane made a soft 'putt' sound. The dart it launched flew harmlessly over their heads and stuck in one of the tower speakers. Smoke started to come from the impact point.

Monty and Dale were already closing in, but Mouseworthy hurled the cane at Saotome, and Monty had to jump to intercept it, leaving a clear path offstage. Mouseworthy took it, running like all the cats in New York were after him. Zipper leapt from Monty's collar, and grabbed onto Mouseworthy's, hauling backwards with all the strength in his wings, but it barely slowed his headlong progress.

Gadget had stepped round the side of Chip, and she glanced around, face a study in calculation. Suddenly her eyes fixed on the far end of the boom mike. "Chip, give me a boost! Thataway!"

Chip couldn't help think about saying how amazing she was, but he knew that wasn't what she meant. Without hesitating, he brought his paws together to form a step which she jumped up onto. Then she leapt as he flung he forward. She reached in midair and grabbed the weighted end of the boom mike sending it spinning. The microphone end swung round, out over the audience and back across the other side of the stage to catch the fleeing mouse upside the head.

Mouseworthy staggered clear, eyes crossed and tongue lolling out. "Urggle!" he urggled as he slumped to the floor like a puppet with it's strings cut. There was applause from the audience.

Gadget dropped off as she swung past Chip, and he caught her. There was a definite undercurrent of 'aww' in the applause. "That was great!" Chip said grinning broadly.

As he walked past on his way to help Monty drag Mouseworthy offstage, Dale commented, "Yeah, you really lowered the sonic boom on him!" eliciting groans from everyone on stage.

"Well I didn't have a plunger crossbow, so I applied one of my dad's old sayings. 'Don't complain about what you don't have, use what you do.' How about you? Where did that disc come from?"

Chip shrugged. "I was inspired by that lecture we went to on micro-aerodynamics. A couple of thumb tacks, some blue-tack for weight, even I could put that together. I figure with practice I could even skim it around corners…"

There was a cough from Professor Saotome. "You may discuss this later. Before we were interrupted, we were awarding Hackwrench-san her justly deserved reward."

Chip suddenly realised he was still holding Gadget. "Oh… yeah, right." He lowered her down as gently as if she was made of porcelain.

"Golly and a half! I almost forgot!" Gadget exclaimed. "Thanks Chip." She gave him a small kiss, just a peck on the cheek which appeared to hit him almost as hard as the microphone had Mouseworthy. His ears twitched and he staggered off stage barely under his own power, goofy grin on his face.

Kimiko and Foxglove had joined the others in the wings, and the bat sighed as she watched, cuddling Dale. "Oh my, that's so sweet! I've gotta draw this when I get back."

Dale nodded. "Yeah, Chip may be the detective, but Gadget's the one who seems to have gotten a clue."

Monty smirked as he glanced at the bindings on Mouseworthy. He had one arm around Kimiko, who was gazing up at him, lovingly. "Too roight pallies, an' it's about toime!"

"Zyeah!" added Zipper.

Chip joined them, and they watched from the wings as Gadget received her awards. Her acceptance speech was very Gadget.

"Thanks Saotome-sensei, everyone. Well, everyone except the people like Mouseworthy, who didn't want me to have this award. Thanking them would be rather silly. As I said before, I did this to keep my fathers promise, and to see how well I could do. Of course, when I say I, that doesn't take into the account all the people who helped me.

"First of all, my friends, the Rescue Rangers. They were behind me, all the way... except for the times they were in front of to the side, or in Zipper and Foxglove's case overhead. Without them, I wouldn't even be here to receive this. This is a tribute to all their hard work.

"I also want to thank the WAAT committee for all their hard work in giving us all a forum to show our ideas and test them. I know many of the ideas I've seen have inspired me. My future designs will be even better."

"And I also want to thank all of those people who came to our place, encouraged me and talked over technical ideas. I hope I was able to help, I know it helped me. And of course thanks for being here today and listening to me make this speech."

She saw the Nekomi Tech team filtering in sat the back.

"And I intend to give the Nekomi Tech team my Albatross award, because their design would easily have succeeded in getting one if they hadn't been sabotaged."

Professor Saotome replied. "That is not necessary Hackwrench-dono. If it can be demonstrated, that that was the only reason they required maintenance, I think the committee may be lenient in this case." There were murmurs of approval from the crowd.

When it was over she came off stage to meet them.

"Golly guys, I can't believe it! I managed to win the Unlimited Air Race!"

Chip had recovered some aplomb. "None of us had any doubts you would. Right guys?"

There was a unanimous agreement from the others.

&

The World Animal Aviation Trials were over, and the Rangers were packing up to go.

"Y'know, I expected the guys holding Tamaburo's sister to put up more of a fight." said Gadget.

Chip shook his head. "With their boss all tied up, they didn't really have anything to fight for. Still sneaking in and securing Oyako was good practice."

They were almost finished when Kimiko arrived.

"Hiya, Kimiko-san!" called out Dale. "We saved you a seat beside Monty!"

Kimiko smiled, and said, "I thank you for your kindness, but I am not going with you."

The massed "Huh!" was a sight to behold.

Monty was the only one not joining in. He hefted a large bundle. "Me and Kimi-chan have talked it ovah, and she wants to find her family first."

"But I will keep in touch, and if I have not found them by the New Year, I will come to America. I have a whole new lifetime to decide what to do with, and I hope to have some help." She stepped over to Monty, and gave him a classic glomph.

Monty hugged her right back. "That you will Kimi-chan, that you will."

"I think my copyright's just been infringed." Foxglove muttered..

Kimiko released Monty a bit and said, "Oh, they finally decided what to do with Mouseworthy. He's going to be on clean-up duty here at Tomodachi Island… without help… and Tamaburo is one of his overseers."

Chip winced. "Whoa! Now that's a punishment."

Dale chuckled. "C'mon Chip, it won't take him more than three or four years at the most."

"I guess so long as it keeps him out of our fur, it's okay. Maybe it'll teach him to clean up his act too."

Dale grinned. "Well, he has experience. He sure was a washout as a villain."

Foxglove giggled, followed by laughter and a couple of groans from the rest as they got ready to go home.

****

Cue Fadeout music – The End.


End file.
